


Accidental Truths

by Tuttle4077



Category: Hogan's Heroes (TV 1965)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28848582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuttle4077/pseuds/Tuttle4077
Summary: Hogan doesn't know it yet, but one of his silver-tongued lies is the truth!
Comments: 22
Kudos: 13





	1. A Journal of Madness

There must've been something wrong with the mirror. That was it. A crack that somehow bounced the light the wrong way. Of course. Simple.

Klink grimaced and moved closer to his mirror, inspecting the surface carefully. No cracks. Maybe it was the poor lighting.

Quickly hurrying to the other side of the room, Klink turned on another lamp and rushed back. No, that wasn't it either. The mirror just gave him the same reflection.

With a sigh of defeat, Klink slumped his shoulders. There was no way around it. A new set of wrinkles had moved in around his eyes. To anyone else, they might've gone by unnoticed, but to Klink, they stood out like a sore thumb. But then again, what did he expect? He had just celebrated his 50th birthday. From there, life went down hill, didn't it?

Klink sighed again and grabbed his cap. He inspected it for a moment before placing it on his bald head. After a moment of inspection in the mirror, he adjusted his cap and put it on an angle. He pulled on his jacket and straightened. Shoulders back, chest out, riding crop firmly under arm, monocle in place. There. Dashing as ever.

With a satisfied smiled, Klink strutted from his quarters and to his office. He made sure he flashed an extra charming smile towards Hilda. His secretary just giggled and he liked to think it was because he had sent her heart fluttering. As he entered his office, he took off his cap and threw it onto the helmet that was on his desk. A very Hogan thing to do. A very- what?

Snapping out of whatever was possessing him to act this way, Klink swiped his cap off his beloved helmet and hung it up on his coat rack. Very Hogan indeed. And the he last thing he needed was to act like the American colonel. True, Hogan had a certain young at heart charm, but Klink was a colonel in the German Luftwaffe. It was serious business. It would be no good to adopt American attitudes- especially with an upcoming visit from General Burkhalter.

Klink groaned and flopped into his chair. Why was the General coming? He had been there no more than two weeks ago. What little hair Klink had left was quickly greying at the thought that Burkhalter was only coming to send him to the Russian front.

Klink rubbed his face. Maybe he should consider an early retirement. Find a little cottage in the mountain, raise goats or something. All this stress was making him feel far too old.

"Kommandant Klink! Kommandant Klink!"

Oh no. Klink buried his face in his hands as he heard his sergeant of the guard enter the outer office. What now?

Suddenly, the door to his office burst open and Schultz barged in. The sergeant immediately bent over, resting his hands on his knees and gulping for breath. "Kommandant- Kommandant Klink!"

With a growl, Klink smacked his desk and rose to his feet. "Schuuuultz! How many times have I told you not to barge into my office!"

"But Komman-"

Klink raised a hand. "None of your excuses, Schultz. Go to the other side of the door and knock. And then when I say enter, you enter!"

Schultz nodded vigorously and shakily straightened and left the office. A moment later, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Klink called.

Again, Schultz burst in. "Kommandant Klink, I must make a report."

Klink sat down again. "Go ahead."

"Kommandant, I must report that… I must report that…"

Klink was growing impatient. "Must report what, Schultz?" he asked sweetly. When the sergeant didn't answer right away, Klink again slapped his desk. "What is it Schultz?" he barked.

Schultz sputtered. "I am trying to remember, Kommandant." He held up his hand and started counting on his fingers. "I was walking around the compound. And then I was going to check on the prisoners and then- and then-"

"And then what, Schultz?"

"Oh yes! I remember! And then all this water shot out of the ground."

Klink shot out of his chair. "Schultz, how could you forget a thing like that?"

"Well you see, Herr Kommandant, I knew what I wanted to say but then you-"

"Never mind that, Schultz," Klink said, waving his hand in the air dismissively. He rubbed his chin. "Obviously Hogan is digging a tunnel and hit a pipe. Ah-ha! I've got him this time! Let's go!"

Klink grabbed his cap and his riding crop and excitedly marched out of his office. He had him this time. There was no way that Hogan could talk his way around this. How else would he explain a spring of water in the middle of the camp?

Before he could open the door leading outside, Klink paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. How would Hogan explain that. Klink groaned. It would be fantastic to be sure. Miracle mineral water? The fountain of youth?

Klink snorted at the thought. Hadn't Hogan already tried that one? Or both? He should look it up in his journal. He had written every insane excuse Hogan had given him in there. Maybe he could make some sort of radio program out of it after the war.

There he went again. That was something that Hogan would do too. He definitely needed the war to end and soon, before Hogan rubbed off on him any more.

"Kommandant?" Schultz said, breaking Klink out of his thoughts. "Is there something wrong with the door?"

"Nothing, Schultz," Klink grumbled as he opened the door and marched out into the compound. As expected, there was a group of prisoners huddled around something. As the office door shut, Colonel Hogan himself looked up from the group.

"Good morning, Kommandant Klink!" he called.

"If it is a good morning, Colonel Hogan, then you had better enjoy it while you can," Klink said as he approached. "Because you will not be seeing another one for a long time!"

Hogan blinked innocently. "Whatever do you mean, Kommandant?"

Klink stamped his foot. "You know what I mean, Hogan. Two weeks in the cooler for attempting to escape."

"Me? Attempting to escape?" Hogan asked in shock, putting a hand to his chest. "Kommandant, how could you accuse me of such a thing."

Klink waggled his finger at Hogan. "I'm on to your little tricks Hogan. There's no way around it. You were digging a tunnel and hit a water pipe. Now off to the cooler with you. Schultz."

Schultz moved to grabbed Hogan's arm, but Hogan swatted his hand away. "Wait a minute, Kommandant. I protest. Are you seriously accusing me of digging a tunnel?"

"Yes!" Why did they always have to play this game? Why did Klink let him do this? All he had to do was order Schultz to take him away and walk off, ignoring any protests. But Klink found himself waiting for Hogan's argument.

"Ha! Of all the ridiculous things," Hogan said with a bark of a laugh. "I never heard anything so ridiculous!"

The other prisoners voiced their agreement and laughed as well. Klink felt his face turn red and his body start to shake. He took a deep breath before speaking. "And just what makes it so ridiculous, Hogan?"

"Well take a look at where we're standing, Colonel!"

Klink looked around. They were standing halfway between his office and Colonel Hogan's barracks. "I'm looking, Hogan, but I don't see your point," Klink said impatiently.

"If I really was digging a tunnel then I would dig towards the fence, not the middle of the camp."

"Hmmm. That sounds reasona- Hogan! You are not talking me out of this!"

Hogan shrugged. "I'm not trying to do that at all, sir. I know you already know."

"Already know what?" Klink pressed curiously. What was Hogan getting at?

"Oh come on, Colonel, you don't have to hide it from me," Hogan said as he slid closer to Klink. He dropped his voice to a whisper before continuing. "You just want the men to think it's some sort of broken pipe, I get it. You don't want them to know what this really is."

"What is it, Hogan? What?" This didn't make any sense. Why would he want Hogan's men to think he thought it was a broken pipe from a tunnel they themselves had dug. Klink stifled a groan. His head was starting to hurt.

"A natural spring of course."

"Now why would I want to hide that from your men?" Klink whispered fiercely.

"It's not just any spring. Oh but you know that already."

"Yes, of course I do," Klink hissed. No he didn't. Oh this was ridiculous. Hogan was just making up some story. A few weeks in the cooler wasn't the worst thing. Why didn't Hogan just admit that he had a horrible sense of direction, had dug in the wrong direction and had hit a pipe? But still, Klink was unable to break away from Hogan's tale. "Remind me again what it is."

"The fountain of youth, sir. One gulp of this and-"

That was it. He had had it. No more. "Hogan! Enough of this. Into the cooler! Two weeks and not a day less! And I want that tunnel filled in by then end of the day! Schultz! Take him away!" And with that, Klink spun on his heel and stalked off.

Fountain of youth indeed. He could skip writing this one in his journal. Hogan had already used it.


	2. Play Ball!

Hogan didn't intend to keep quiet as Schultz led him to the cooler. Of all the times for Klink not believe him, it had to be when he was telling the truth. The half-truth anyway. Okay, so it wasn't the fountain of youth, but a very muddy Kinch had sworn up and down that they hadn't hit any water pipes. The water had just appeared out of nowhere while they were digging an extension to the kitchen. Hogan had been out in the compound when it had happened. He didn't have a chance to see the tunnel but Kinch didn't look very optimistic when he had asked how long it would take to repair.

"I'm telling you Schultz, we didn't hit any water pipe!" Hogan cried indignantly.

"Colonel Hogan, I do not care," Schultz said with an uppity tone. "Kommandant Klink has given the order and when Kommandant Klink gives an order I follow that order." Schultz said as he opened a cell for Hogan.

"Ever thought of being a waiter, Schultz? You'd be great."

"Haha, jolly joker. Will you have more jokes when you come out?" Schultz asked with sweet sarcasm.

"I'll see what I can come up with in two days," Hogan said with a shrug.

"Two days?" Schultz's demeanour immediately changed as he twisted his face in confusion, as if he were trying to remember what Klink had said. "No, I am sure it was two weeks, Colonel Hogan."

"Schuuuultz," Hogan drawled, "you and I both know that two weeks is a cruel, humanly unjustifiable punishment to be inflicted only by a sadist! Is that what you think of your commanding officer?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean…" Schultz growled in frustration. "I mean… Colonel Hogan, I do not know _what_ I mean, but I will see you when Kommandant Klink orders me to get you. Now into the cooler."

Hogan held up his hands in surrender. "All right, Schultz, I'm going. But I'm going to write my congressman about this."

Schultz didn't answer as he shut the door. Hogan heard him fumble with his keys. "It's the big one," Hogan supplied helpfully after hearing a few keys being tried in the lock.

"I know what I am doing," Schultz grumbled in reply.

Hogan just shrugged and sighed. "How long is this going to take, Schultz?" he asked, glancing at the tunnel entrance.

"I have it!" Schultz announced. "And now, I am off. Enjoy your two weeks, Colonel Hogan."

"Two days," Hogan replied casually. He heard Schultz grumble again and he couldn't help but grin. When was Schultz going to realize that he was always right. Sure, Klink might not let him out for two weeks, but nothing said that Schultz wouldn't accidentally catch sight of him somewhere.

"Two weeks, two days, two minutes- it's all the same thing," Hogan said to himself as he crouched down by the entrance. He was just about to pry it loose when he heard Schultz at the end of the hall.

"No, no, no, it is verboten!" Schultz yelled. Hogan straightened and listened at the door.

"Come on Schultz, two minutes tops." It was Kinch. What was he doing in here?

"Nein! I must protest. Kommandant Kl-"

"Will never have to know," Hogan shouted. "What's up, Kinch?"

"Just came to give you your lucky baseball and glove," Kinch answered.

"I am sorry but I must protest," Schultz repeated. "You are not supposed to be in here; Colonel Hogan is in solitary and-"

"Aw come on, Schultz," Hogan cried. "Are you really going to make me sit out my two weeks without even one little baseball to entertain me? That's practically torture!"

"I would love to let you have the baseball, Colonel Hogan, you know I would," Schultz said apologetically. "But the Kommandant has given the order and-"

"There's strudel in it for you," Kinch interrupted.

There was a pause and Hogan could almost see Schultz weighing his options. "That changes things," Schultz said finally. Hogan just grinned as Schultz unlocked and opened the door. Kinch was standing beside him, ball and glove in hand. He made no move to hand it over and looked up at Schultz.

"Do you mind, Schultz?"

"Mind? Mind what? You are just giving him a baseball. You are just giving him a baseball, aren't you?"

"Sure, Schultz, sure," Hogan assured him with a cheeky grin. "What else would he be doing. Of course if you're standing here and Kinch happens to mention something that happened while you were on duty then I can't guarantee that-"

Schultz held up a hand, cutting Hogan off. "Colonel Hogan, Kinchloe, I have decided that I will stand over there until you are done," he said, pointing to the end of the hall.

The two prisoners waited him to be out of earshot before they spoke again. "Okay Kinch, what are you doing here? You didn't come just to give me a ball, did you?"

Kinch looked guilty as he handed over the ball and glove. "Actually, I did."

"What?" Hogan hissed.

"All that water washed out the tunnels leading to the cooler," Kinch explained.

"Great. Are you saying I'm stuck here for two weeks?"

"'Fraid so," Kinch apologized. "We'll try and clear it out as soon as we can, but it may take the whole two weeks."

"What happened, exactly, Kinch? You sure you didn't hit a pipe?"

"I promise. We were just digging and suddenly all this water burst out of the ground. The tunnels are a mess."

"Perfect," Hogan groused. He was not looking forward to being cooped up in his little cell. Now his only hope was that Klink would find it in his cold, black heart to let him out early. "Is there any good news?"

"My radio didn't get damaged," Kinch offered. "And we can still get out the emergency tunnel."

"Well that's a start," Hogan muttered sourly. "At least we didn't lose the whole operation."

"We'll get it back on track," Kinch promised. "And we'll find a way to talk to you if London gives us anything."

"Sure. Anything else?" Hogan asked. There probably wasn't, but Hogan wanted to drag out the visit for as long as possible if he really was going to be all by himself for two whole weeks. Of all the rotten luck. Maybe one of his men would purposely get himself thrown in the cooler so he could have some company. Nah. They were loyal, but not _that_ loyal.

Kinch shrugged. "Don't know if you care, but the water that came up is pretty sweet, actually."

"Sweet?" Hogan repeated.

"Yeah. It tastes good. You want me to bring you some?"

"Nah. Thanks anyway," Hogan replied. Suddenly, an idea flashed through his mind and he snapped his fingers. "Got it."

"Got what?" Kinch asked, sounding puzzled.

"Klink thinks we hit a water pipe, right?"

"That's why he sent you to the cooler," Kinch reminded him, causing Hogan to scrunch his nose. He quickly recovered and continued with his thought.

"So, let's prove him wrong. Bottle up some of that water and take it to him. If it tastes so different, he'd have to know it didn't come from any of our water."

"Sure, but he wouldn't put it past us to sweeten it up ourselves," Kinch pointed out.

"Then make the evidence irrefutable," Hogan went on. "Get him to check the water around camp. Since we didn't hit a pipe, it should all be running fine." That would get him out in no time flat.

"All right, we'll see what we can do," Kinch promised. He took a step back. "Well… have fun, I guess."

"Thanks a lot, Kinch," Hogan grumped, folding his arms over his chest.

"No problem," Kinch replied with the tiniest smirk. He looked over to Schultz. "Ready to go, Schultz."

"Good. Now, back to the barracks, back, back, back." Schultz shooed Kinch away and closed Hogan's cell.

With a sigh, Hogan plopped himself onto the cold cement and started throwing his ball against the wall. It was going to be a long two weeks.


	3. Corruptible Men

Klink eyed the three prisoners that had just entered his office suspiciously. They looked innocent enough. But then again, they _were_ Hogan's men. Klink recalled his Hogan-like behaviour that morning. Goodness, if Hogan could rub off on him like that, what about these men, who spent more time with the American colonel than he ever would? What were they trying to pull over him?

"It's no use arguing," Klink informed the prisoners before they could say anything. "Colonel Hogan will spend two weeks in the cooler and that is final."

"Oh but Colonel Klink," Corporal LeBeau pleaded, "you only sent him there because you thought we were digging a tunnel."

"I know all about your tunnel," Klink replied. "And if it's not filled in by tomorrow, Colonel Hogan will spend another week in the cooler."

"But that's just it, Kommandant," the American, Sergeant Carter, started to explain. "We weren't digging a tunnel! Honest we weren't!" He crossed his heart and held up three fingers. "Scout's honour, sir."

Klink scowled. He probably wasn't even a Scout. Oh how Hogan had corrupted these men. "Enough of this. I want all three of you out of-" It was then that he noticed the jars of water they were holding. Curiosity got the better of him as he pointed to them. "What are those?"

"Proof, Kommandant," Carter explained. "This is the water that came up. Taste it. It didn't come from the camp, that's for sure."

Aha! It _was_ a trick. The water was probably drugged. Did they really think he would fall for that? How insulting. "Is that so?" Klink snapped sarcastically.

"Sure," Carter said cheerfully, Klink's tone apparently lost on him. "It tastes good too. Kinda sweet. Not like any natural water I've ever tasted. Go ahead and have some!"

Klink smacked his desk. He momentarily wondered if his poor desk would just fall apart one day from all his smacking. Shaking his head, he got back to the task at hand. "Do you really expect me to buy that? It's some sort of trick!"

"Oh for the love of-" the British corporal muttered before cutting himself off. "How 'bout this, Kommandant- me and my mates will each take a drink." Klink just remained silent, one eyebrow arched sceptically. Newkirk just shrugged. "All right lads." In unison, the three prisoners each took a big gulp from their jugs. "What I tell you, Kommandant?"

"Hmph." Klink was not impressed. "You've only proven it's not drugged."

"Try it yourself, Kommandant," Carter suggested. He gave Klink an innocent smile and offered him the water.

Klink took the offered water with an exasperated sigh. Why was he doing this? It was one thing to let Hogan get away with this sort of thing, but these prisoners were enlisted men- hardly worth his attention. Still, Klink found himself taking a cautious sip.

The taste was hard to describe. Sweet, yes, but there was something more to it. Something Klink couldn't put his finger on. "Interesting," Klink mumbled and took another sip.

"You can bet your boots it didn't come from the camp, boy!" Carter exclaimed. Klink shot him a scathing look, causing Carter to add a quick and apologetic "Sir".

"And how do I know you didn't just sweeten it yourselves?" My, he was certainly suspicious today. More so than usual. But what did he expect from himself? He had been with these prisoners for years and he couldn't begin to count all the times they and Hogan had made a fool of him.

"Now why would we do that?" LeBeau asked impatiently. "Why don't you have your guards check the water around camp? If we did hit a pipe, it would not run properly."

"Your suggestion is duly noted," Klink said with a wave of the hand. He had had enough of these prisoners. "Dismissed."

Newkirk and LeBeau set their water on his desk before all three offered him a salute and high-tailed it out of his office. Klink glanced over the water and snorted. "Sergeant Carter," he called. Carter poked his head back in. He was the more honest one in the bunch, Klink decided. He would give him a straight answer. "Does Colonel Hogan honestly expect me to think this water is from the fountain of youth?"

Carter looked sheepish. "He probably does. But you know the colonel- always making jokes." Klink just grunted. "Well, after all, sir, our lives are pretty boring. We have to do something to amuse ourselves and Colonel Hogan, he always says that-"

"Sergeant?"

Carter stopped mid-ramble. "Yes Kommandant?"

"Forget it."

Another sheepish grin. "Yes sir." And with that he was gone.

Klink sighed and sunk back down into his chair. Despite what General Burkhalter had said in the past about his position as Kommandant being the safest and easiest in Germany, Klink seriously wondered if he would make it through the war in one piece. Even if his body made it through, he wasn't sure his sanity stood a chance.

Thankfully, the day passed rather quickly and quietly. It turned out the water in camp was running fine. Could it be true that the water shooting up in the compound was really a natural spring? It was possible, he supposed. He had even gone out and tasted it straight from the source. There was no way the prisoners could've sweetened it from there. Another strike in Hogan's favour. Either way, he had had the prisoners build a trough to catch it all. Throughout the day he had taken a few drinks here and there and by the time he was getting ready for bed, it was almost gone.

As usual, Klink spent a good twenty minutes in front of the mirror, admiring himself. It didn't take long for him to notice something different. He peered closer into the mirror. The wrinkles that had caused him such worry that morning were gone. He felt around his eyes to double check. Yup, gone. Could it be that he had just imagined them? Maybe it was the early morning light?

Klink shrugged and was about to leave it at that when something else caught his attention. Running his hand through the little hair he had left, he noticed it was a little darker than usual. Maybe it was the evening light playing tricks.

Suspiciously, Klink glanced at the little water he had left. Could it be true? Was it really- oh but that was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Klink chuckled to himself as he peeled off his uniform and changed into his pyjamas. Hmmm… a little roomier than usual. Klink shook the thought out of his head. Ridiculous. Hogan was planting thoughts into his head and he was just being gullible for letting them get to him.

Still, Klink couldn't resist the temptation to finish off the water before he settled into his bed.


	4. Rude Awakening

Klink hated his alarm clock. Hated it. Occasionally, he dreamt about tossing it into the cooler and letting it rot there for the rest of the war with whichever prisoner had been giving him trouble- usually Hogan. But dreams rarely came true and so Klink found himself waking up because the blasted thing was ringing its bells off at some ungodly hour in the morning.

With a groan, Klink reached over to turn it off. Or smash it- which ever was easier. Turned out neither was, because Klink couldn't seem to reach his nightstand. That would mean he would have to move, get up, roll over, something to get to it. Klink opted for the "something" option and buried his head under his pillow, pressing it against his ears. It only took a moment for the clock to wind down and Klink relaxed. There.

Maybe it was because his bed felt so big, or that his blankets were nice and heavy and warm, but Klink didn't want to get up. But there was a price attached to running the toughest prisoner of war camp in Germany. Early morning rolls calls were just the tip of the iceberg. There were escape attempts to kibosh, prisoners to be cowed, requisitions to make up, inspections to prepare for.

Now there was a reason to stay in bed if he ever needed one. Maybe he could hide in his bed until after General Burkhalter's visit.

But, of course, that was impossible- after all, how would it look to arrive on the Russian front still curled in bed and in pyjamas? On second thought, he probably wouldn't be the first.

As fun as it was to procrastinate, it wasn't getting him very far. It was time to get up and face the day and whatever challenges it would bring. But then again, Hogan was in the cooler. The day was looking brighter already.

With a yawn, Klink stretched and slid out of bed. He mechanically grabbed his monocle from his nightstand and put it in place. There was no point in starting the day if he couldn't see. Although, he had to admit, it didn't feel quite right this morning. And was it his imagination or was his nightstand higher this morning.

Ridiculous. Klink shook his head to clear it and marched into the bathroom. Well, he would've marched but he just ended up tripping over his pyjamas and crashing to the floor. Klink let out a grunt as he propped himself onto his elbows and looked back at his feet. Goodness, he couldn't even see them. His pants covered them up completely. Had it grown in the wash? Of course not. Who ever heard of clothes growing in the wash? But if they hadn't grown then had he shrunk?

Again, ridiculous. Klink picked himself off the ground and hiked up his pyjama pants. It didn't do much. Especially since his pyjama shirt nearly touched the ground too. What was going on? He frantically started gathering the excess fabric of his nightclothes and just a quickly stopped cold.

He spent a good ten minutes staring at his hands before he sprung into action.

"SCHUUUUUUULTZ!"

* * *

Colonel Hogan hated spending the night in the cooler. Hated it. For one thing, his baseball glove made a comfier pillow than the one on his cot. Second, even in the late Spring, the cooler was still freezing during the night. Attached to that- third, his blanket was nothing more than a pathetic, scratchy little rag. And finally, while he was stuck in there, he had absolutely no idea what was going outside the cooler.

Hogan lay on his stiff as a board cot, arms folded over his chest, staring up at the ceiling. To the outside observer, he might've looked calm, asleep, or just plain bored, but Hogan's mind was going a mile a minute. How the heck was he going to get out of there? There was no way he would last two whole weeks.

He slid is gaze towards the tunnel entrance. With any luck, his men were working around the clock to dig through to the cooler. But even if they were, it would probably take a day or two.

Hogan cursed under his breath. He didn't even know how bad it was down there. All he knew is what Kinch had told him and that hadn't been much. He knew the escape tunnel was clear and that the radio was still working. But that brought up more things to be anxious about. Had London called during the night? Did they have a new mission that needed to be taken care of ASAP? Kinch had promised he would find a way to contact him if that happened, but it was still early in the morning. Still before roll call, Hogan confirmed with a quick glance at his watch. There was no way to reach him until after that. And then what? He was still stuck where he was.

His only hope was that Klink would let him off early for good behaviour. And that wasn't likely to happen.

A noise at the end of the hall snapped Hogan out his thoughts. He checked his watch again. Too early for roll call still. Maybe Kinch had snuck across the compound to see him about something.

Jumping off his cot, Hogan ran to the door and pressed up against it. No, it wasn't Kinch. He could hear keys jangling. That was something, for some reason, that they didn't have- a set of cooler keys. He mentally made a note to acquire a set when he got out. After all, whoever heard of prisoners of war not having keys to their own cooler? Tunnels just weren't enough for an operation this big.

Heavy footsteps. Schultz. Now what was he doing here this early in the morning? Klink was probably still brushing his pearly whites, not giving orders to have him released. Whatever it was though, it was important- from the sound of it, Schultz was practically running.

"Colonel Hogan, Colonel Hogan, Colonel Hogan!" Schultz cried from the other side of the door, his keys making an awful racket.

Hogan settled back onto his cot and casually glanced up as Schultz opened the door. "Something the matter, Schultz?" Schultz could only nod hysterically. Hogan lazily held his watch up. "Could it wait a while, Schultz? I need my beauty sleep."

"Colonel Hogan, you must come with me right away!" And then, without even waiting for an answer, Schultz grabbed his arm, pulled Hogan to his feet and started out the door.

"Hold it, Schultz," Hogan cried in surprise. Schultz released him and Hogan brushed himself off with shaky hands. What was going on? Schultz wasn't the type to just grab a guy- an officer no less- and pull him out of bed. Hogan's heart plummeted into his stomach. "What's wrong Schultz? Are my men-"

"I have not seen them yet. But the Kommandant- the Kommandant- the-"

Hogan let out a sigh of relief. His men, as far as Schultz knew, were okay. But something had put Schultz into a tizzy. Something about Klink. But Schultz couldn't seem to form an explanation. He just stood there, stuttering and waving his arms towards the door.

Hogan grabbed his cap and used it to motion to the door. "All right, I'm ready now. Lead on, Schultz."

Hogan practically had to jog to keep up with Schultz. Whatever was going on, it was something big. Schultz never moved that fast for anything- not even LeBeau's freshly made strudel.

Hogan scanned the compound as they raced across it. Nothing was on fire. No dead bodies. Not even a visiting staff car. "What's all this about, Schultz?" Hogan asked as they came up to Klink's quarters. "Klink die in his sleep?" he quipped. But even as he did, he felt a chill go over him. He could joke all he wanted, but if that really were the case then the whole operation would be in a heap of trouble.

"Worse," Schultz replied and opened the door. Hogan stepped in and took a look around. Nothing seemed out of place. "The bedroom," Schultz said, pointing.

Hogan took a deep breath and headed towards Klink's room. Again, nothing was out of the ordinary. Except the scruffy haired kid sitting in an ridiculously oversized pair of pyjamas on the bed. "Who's the kid, Schultz? Where's Klink?"

And then the light bulb went off and smacked Hogan upside the head. And try as he might, Hogan couldn't ignore his intuition as it screamed in his ear.

It couldn't be. It was ludicrous, preposterous, absurd, not to mention completely and totally impossible. Hogan just gave Schultz a pleading look, waiting for the sergeant to say something that would contradict his gut feeling. "No, Schultz. No."

"But Colonel Hogan-" Schultz said, pointing to the boy.

"No," Hogan repeated, holding up his hand. "It's impossible, Schultz. You know that. I know that. I mean, what did he do? Drink from the-"

"Fountain of youth?" the kid finished.

Hogan looked back at him and then heavenwards. "Oh boy."


	5. Kids is Kids

He still didn't want to say it aloud. Maybe if he ignored it the problem would go away. But there really was no way around it.

Colonel Hogan took a deep breath. "Klink?" he asked. The kid nodded. Hogan just dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, waiting for what he knew was coming.

And there it was. Suddenly, whatever was keeping Klink together unravelled. "Hogan! Look at me!" Klink wailed. "I am, I'm, I- You did this!" Klink jumped off his bed and pointed an accusing finger up at Hogan.

"Me?" Hogan repeated. "I didn't do a thing, I-"

"You told me that spring was the fountain of youth!" Klink cried indignantly.

"And apparently I was right." Boy, was he ever right. "How much of that stuff did you drink anyway?"

"Only what your men brought me. Your sergeant, Carter, said that you-"

Hogan snapped his fingers. "My men. Did they drink any of that stuff?" He was halfway to the door when Klink stopped him.

"Hogan, how can you think of your men at a time like this?" Klink asked, sounding offended. "What about me? Do you know what Berlin will do when they find out I'm-" Klink looked himself over- "five?"

"Well they won't send you to the Russian front, that's for sure."

Klink suddenly looked terrified. "No. But what _will_ they do?" he asked, as if he were seriously pondering it.

How should he know? He didn't even know the US Army's policy on what to do when an officer suddenly de-aged into a five year old. "I don't know… have your parents to come get you?"

"But Hogan, my parents are dead." Klink paled and put his hands on his thin cheeks. "They'll send me to an orphanage! Hogan! What am I going to do? I'm too old to be in an orphanage!"

"All right, let's not panic," Hogan said calmly. But Klink was rapidly spinning into hysterics. Kneeling down, Hogan grabbed him on the shoulders and shook him. Klink stopped and looked up at him with big blue eyes.

Aw geez. Hogan was a sucker for kids with big, innocent eyes like that. Quickly, he reminded himself that Klink wasn't _really_ a kid. He was still Kommandant Klink.

Suddenly it dawned on him. Despite everything, Klink was still Klink… more or less.

"All right, calm down," he said gently. Klink sniffled and nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "They won't send you to an orphanage. Promise." Hogan looked Klink over. There wasn't much to look at. Klink was just a scrawny little kid, a little short for a five year old, with a mess of black hair and a thin little face. "Look, I know you may not see it, but there _is_ good news."

"What's that, Hogan?" Klink asked, his little voice filled with hopelessness.

"The good news is that whatever that water did to your body, it didn't affect your mind."

Klink seemed to take a moment to consider that. "I suppose you're right." Then he stomped his foot and jabbed Hogan's chest with his finger. "Never mind my mind, what about my body?"

Hogan couldn't help but grin. "Boy, I wish more dames had your attitude."

"Hogan!"

"Sorry, sir. Not an appropriate thing to say with kids around." Klink just stuck his tongue out at him.

But really, this really was no laughing matter. In fact, the situation was downright serious. Bizarre, but serious. Hogan couldn't run his operation without Klink and Klink couldn't keep being kommandant if he stayed that way.

"Uh, Kommandant," Schultz said tentatively.

"What is it, Schultz?"

"Kommandant, I do not want to interrupt, but I must report that it is almost time for roll call."

Klink's eyes grew wide. Suddenly, he grabbed Hogan's jacket lapels and shook them. "Hogan, what am I going to do? If I go out there- the prisoners. Colonel, they will riot! Or try to escape or-"

"I give you my word as an officer and a gentlemen that they won't do any of that," Hogan promised as he pulled his jacket out of Klink's grasp. "They might not even be able to. They might be-" Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a bad feeling about this. "Schultz, get the men ready for roll call."

"Right away," Schultz said, firing off a salute.

"Just a moment, Schultz." Schultz stayed still and Klink fixed him with a hard look. "May I remind you that despite my… condition, I am still the kommandant of this camp and Hogan is just a prisoner. I will order roll call, not him."

"Of course, Herr Kind. I mean, Klink. I mean, jawohl Herr Kommandant."

Klink just rolled his eyes. "Dismissed Schultz."

"I'll go with you, Schultz."

"I did not dismiss you, Hogan," Klink pointed out as Hogan stood.

"Look, Klink, I gotta check on my men."

"But Hogan, what am I supposed to do?" Klink asked.

Hogan shrugged. "Do what you always do, I guess." He pointed to Klink's long pants. "Just don't trip on your way out."

Klink started protesting again, but Hogan ignored him and raced out to the compound. "Don't be in such a hurry, Schultz," Hogan said when he caught up to him. "Give me some time to make sure the guys are all right." Schultz nodded and Hogan ran to his own barracks. He could hear the cries of surprise from inside. Great. So Klink wasn't the only one he had to worry about. Hogan took a moment to take a breath and prepared himself before he opened the door.

His preparation hadn't done much to help him. The sight still surprised him. With a groan, Hogan slumped against the door as he looked over his "men". Everyone in the barracks had been affected from what he could tell. They all looked about five or six, he guessed. Great.

LeBeau, Newkirk and Kinch were in the middle of the barracks in their oversized pyjamas, yelling at each other. The others in the barracks just looked dumbfounded. And Carter. A wave of panic suddenly washed over Hogan. Where was Carter? Oh great. He had probably drank himself into non-existence.

"Colonel!"

Hogan whirled around and instantly felt a note of relief. There was Carter, standing next to the door, out of his immediate line of sight. It took a moment to realize that, while Carter had still been affected, he wasn't as young as the rest. Maybe twelve and as tanned as a strip of leather.

At Carter's cry, everyone stopped and looked up at Hogan with wide-eyed confusion.

Hogan cleared his throat. "I see you shaved your moustache, Kinch," he said dryly.

Kinch's eyes grew wider and a carefully brought a hand to his face. And then all hell broke loose as the prisoners scrambled up to Hogan and started yelling again.

"All right! Calm down!" Hogan yelled over the noise to no avail. "QUIET!" Suddenly, everyone grew still and looked up at him, as if waiting for him to pull out some sort of magic wand that would fix the problem.

"Mon colonel," LeBeau finally squeaked, "what happened?" He looked himself over. "I am… short!"

"Not that there's much difference," Newkirk muttered.

LeBeau's face grew red and his little frame started to shake. He ball a fist and swung it at Newkirk. Newkirk ducked and tackled the Frenchmen. The yelling started up again around the barracks as the two prisoners wrestled on the ground.

Oh brother. Even Klink was more put together than those two. "Carter, help me out," Hogan ordered. Hogan grabbed Newkirk and pulled him off LeBeau. Carter grabbed LeBeau, who squirmed in his arms.

"Let me go!" LeBeau cried indignantly, his arms flailing. Carter just looked up at Hogan, waiting for instructions.

"All right, stop it. You're acting like… kids," Hogan said flatly. "Even Klink's handling this better."

"Klink?" Newkirk repeated, craning his head back to look at Hogan. "Blimey, is he like this too?"

"'Fraid so," Hogan confirmed.

"But Colonel, I don't understand," Kinch said. "What did this. It's not like that water out there really is… Is it?"

Hogan just nodded. "Don't ask me. I don't know. But it's the only thing that's new in camp." He turned his attention to Carter, who was still struggling to keep LeBeau in his arms. "Carter, why aren't you like them?" he asked, waving a hand towards all the other prisoners.

"Oh, gee, I don't know," Carter shrugged. "I guess I didn't drink as much as the others. I didn't really like it, sir. I mean, it was just flavoured water. You see, Colonel, I think if a drink is going to be sweet, there ought to be something to it. Like juice- there's pulp, there's body. But that water was too much like tea, just fla-"

"All right Carter, I get it."

There was a long pause as if no one knew what to do next. Hogan took the opportunity to study his men. Kinch stood quietly, waiting for Hogan to speak. He was a sturdy looking kid, with not much expression on his face. Not much different than his normal self. Beneath the calm exterior, Hogan knew Kinch was taking in everything going on around him.

Newkirk, Hogan noticed with a small grin, was chubby. He had a ruddy complexion and his hair was much lighter than usual. More of a dirty blond than brown.

As for Carter, he was fit and lean, as if he spent most of his time working around a farm- which, at that age, he probably had. And he was dark. The Sioux in him, Hogan supposed. But he had never seen him as dark, not even in the dead of summer after a day of holding reflective tins to his face all day.

If it were at all possible, LeBeau, who had finally calmed down, looked even ornerier than usual. Normally, a scowl from LeBeau would make even Hogan pause. Now, Hogan could practically read his own epitaph in this miniature version's expression. He was the one who broke the silence.

"Carter, put me down," he said through gritted teeth. Carter looked to Hogan for confirmation and he nodded. Carter set LeBeau down and took half a step back. Hogan was tempted to do likewise but didn't get a chance as the door opened.

"Colonel Hogan?" Schultz asked as he peered in. "Them too?"

"Yup."

"All of them?"

"All of them," Hogan said. "Do you know anything about the rest of the camp, Schultz?"

"Ja. They are already falling out for roll call. I have seen a few that are… that way," Schultz finally said.

"Great. Well, come on _boys_ , let's fall out for roll call," Hogan said wryly.

"Are you crazy, Colonel?" LeBeau asked. "Why are we even having roll call? There are more important things to worry about!"

Hogan couldn't give him an answer but he made a good point. Klink and a good chunk of his men were kids, for Pete sakes. Roll call was the least of their worries. But, at the same time, roll call brought a sense of normalcy that Hogan felt himself craving at the moment. Forgoing roll call would've just made everything more bizarre. Besides, roll call would let him know if anyone had gone missing. And the only way someone would've gone missing was if they drank themselves into nothing.

"Come on, let's go."

Schultz stepped aside and let everyone through the door, counting them as they passed. "Colonel Hogan, there are only fourteen!" Schultz exclaimed.

"What?" Hogan stiffened and looked over his men. "Olsen. Where's Olsen?" He was sure he had seen him earlier.

"Right here, Colonel," a voice called from inside. Hogan turned back into the barracks and found Olsen cowering on his top bunk. "I can't get down," Olsen explained. "It's too high!" He cautiously peered over the edge and then jumped back against the wall.

Hogan rolled his eyes. Maybe that water had affected their heads a bit. "All right, come here." Hogan held his hands out for Olsen. "Come on, Olsen, we don't have all day," he said when Olsen hesitated.

Finally, Olsen moved close enough for Hogan to grab him. Olsen held tightly to him, eyes squeezed shut and legs tucked up against his chest. Hogan tried to set him down but Olsen wouldn't let go. As much as he tried, Hogan couldn't pry himself loose from Olsen's grip.

"Sergeant!" Hogan finally cried, exasperated.

Slowly, Olsen opened his eyes and peeked down at the ground and then back at Hogan. A sheepish grin crossed his face. "Erm, sorry, Colonel." He let go of Hogan, who set him on the ground. "Don't know what came over me, sir." And with that, he scurried past Hogan and out the door.

Hogan stood in silence for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. Something told him that things were about to take a turn for the worst.


	6. An Inconvenient Realization

Klink was practically hyperventilating with all the deep breaths he was taking. He couldn't do it. He couldn't go out there and face his men and his prisoners looking like this. Hogan had promised that nothing would happen, but since when could he trust Hogan? After all, this whole terrible situation was the American's fault. He wasn't exactly sure how Hogan was responsible, he just was. Everything unusual that happened in this camp was Hogan's fault. But then again, Hogan was also the one who solved every problem that came up. Klink would just have to trust that he would get them out of this mess too.

Klink glanced up at his wall clock. The prisoners would be lining up. He wondered how many of them had been affected. The men who had brought him in the water probably were, but to what extent? Had any of his guards been affected?

All the answers lay outside the door. He just needed to go out there and assess the damage. And yet he was stuck firmly in place.

What he needed was something to boost his confidence. Klink snorted at the thought and looked himself over. There was no way he could be confident. He had ditched his pants- they were too long and too big around to stay up- and was wearing nothing but his oversized shirt. His sleeves were so long that the dragged on the ground behind him. What was worse, he couldn't even wear his monocle without getting dizzy. All in all, he looked nothing like the fierce kommandant that struck fear into the hearts of his prisoners. Instead, he just looked like a helpless little kid who had been playing in his father's wardrobe.

Well, Hogan would have to keep his prisoners in line. And if he didn't, Klink would order his guards to shoot anyone who so much as thought of saying "Aw" in front of him. It would be hard for them to contain themselves though, Klink had to admit. After all, he was one adorable kid.

There was no use in delaying the inevitable, Klink finally realized. He had to get out there. But not without his hat and his riding crop.

With some effort, Klink pushed a chair up next to his coat rack and climbed up to grab his hat. He placed it on his head, only to have it fall down over his eyes. He pushed it back and climbed down. After grabbing his riding crop and tucking it firmly under his arm, he marched outside and onto his porch.

He felt a twinge of relief as he noted that the men lined up outside barracks two were in the same boat as he was. There were a few other prisoners sprinkled around the camp who were affected as well. But, thankfully, all of his guards seemed to be intact, although a few of them were laughing themselves silly. Well, they had better not laugh at him. He still had the power to send them to the Russian front.

"REPOOOOOOORT!" Klink cried in the biggest voice he could muster.

Any and all noise stopped as everyone turned their attention to him. He squirmed a little at their gazes, but otherwise tried to retain a dignified air.

Schultz turned and gave a smart salute. "All present and accounted for!"

"As it should be!" Klink said, trying to sound casual. "No one escapes Stalag 13, no one! Give up all your foolish ideas of trying!"

Did someone just snort? Klink scanned the compound, looking for the culprit. He didn't see anyone laughing and so he continued. "You may be wondering about my condition. As you see, I'm not the only one affected. If you have any questions, you can ask Colonel Hogan."

"Colonel, I have a question myself," Hogan called from his place in line.

"What is it, Hogan?" Klink asked impatiently. As if he could tell Hogan anything he didn't already know.

"Requesting permission for everyone affected by this to meet in the Rec Hall for a meeting," Hogan replied.

That was a good idea. "Yes, permission granted."

"That includes you, Kommandant," Hogan pointed out.

Klink felt his cheeks burn and he stomped the ground. "Yes, thank-you, Hogan," Klink muttered through his teeth. "Diiiis-missed!" No one moved. "I said dismissed! Don't think for a second that I can't have you all thrown in the cooler or-" he turned a dangerous eye to one of his guards who was trying hard not to snicker- "the Russian front!" The guard straightened and wiped the smile off his face. That was better.

The prisoners broke up and a few made their way to Hogan. Klink himself ran down the steps and up to the American colonel. Without even realizing it, he reached out to grab Hogan's hand as the man made his way towards the Rec Hall. Before he could though, he caught himself and smacked his own hand down. What was he doing? He was _not_ a child and he did _not_ need to hold an adult's hand! What had ever possessed him to do that?

Klink stood back, berating himself as the other moved past him. He was not a child, he reminded himself. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed Hogan to protect and take care of him.

He looked over at the crowd of children following Hogan and it reminded him of the story about the Pied Piper of Hamelin. In the story, the Piper had led the children to some magical land. But another version that his older brother once read him said that the Piper had led them to a river to drown. Klink shivered. Would Hogan figuratively do the same thing? No. Hogan would do what he could to get them out of this mess. After all, aside from himself, all the children were Hogan's men. But then again, hadn't there been one little lame boy in the story that had been left behind? Hogan could very well fix his own men, while leaving Klink behind- doomed to wait another lifetime to get back to normal.

Klink shook the thoughts from his mind and hurried to catch up with the rest of the group. He saw Hogan say something to Sergeant Carter, who dashed off. "What did you say to him?" Klink asked as he approached.

"I told him to gather the barracks chiefs that have kids," Hogan explained. Then, without warning, he smacked his forehead and shook his head slightly.

"What is it, Hogan?" Klink asked in concern.

"Nothing. I just hope he realizes I meant kids in camp, not back home."

Klink took a moment to watch Carter across the compound. "He's older," Klink commented after a moment.

"He said he didn't drink much of that stuff," Hogan replied with a shrug. Then he looked down at Klink. "You must've drank a barrel full."

Klink put his hands on his hips and set his jaw firmly as he looked up at Hogan. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Well, no offence, sir, but you're even older than I am and you're just as young as the rest of the guys."

"I was thirsty!" Klink protested, half tempted to hit Hogan with his riding crop. "Besides, I have always been young at heart. Maybe that helped."

Hogan gave him a sceptical look. "Whatever you say, Kommandant. You ready to start this meeting?"

"Age before beauty," Klink sniped as he moved aside for Hogan. Hogan smirked and, as he walked past, ruffled Klink's hair. The nerve! Klink just stood there, fuming. How dare he ruffle a German's hair! He knew Hogan was cheeky, but that was crossing some sort of line. Well, he was just going to have to get him back. Steal his cap or something. He couldn't let this injustice slide. A week in the cooler! A month! A year!

Klink smacked himself. What was he doing? Yes, Hogan was out of line, but that didn't warrant the frenzy Klink was working himself into. He was acting… childish, Klink realized. And now that he thought of it, he had been very childish earlier, when he stuck his tongue out at Hogan. German officers did not stick their tongues out. And he couldn't ignore that he had actually tried to grab Hogan's hand.

The color drained from Klink's face as a cold realization snuck up on him. He was turning into a child. His body was there already. His mind was just taking a bit longer to catch up.


	7. Meeting Mayhem

Children made Hogan nervous. He wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps it was because they were just so unreasonable. That was it. Children just didn't think like adults- at times, they were downright irrational. And brutally honest. Honesty was all fine and dandy, but not in the spy business. If he wasn't careful, one of these kids might unknowingly spill the beans about the whole operation.

Of course, these weren't actual children, Hogan had to remind himself. They were adults, trapped in children's bodies. And as far as he could tell, they were all thinking on an adult level. With the occasional lapse, Hogan amended as he caught sight of Olsen who was giggling about something. He hoped Olsen's behaviour wasn't the start of a trend, but alarms were starting the ring in the back of his mind.

The noise in the Rec Hall was swelling and Hogan decided it was just about time to get things started. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carter come in, followed by a few of the barracks chiefs. Hopefully the right barracks chiefs.

"All right, let's hold it down," Hogan said from the front of the room. The chatter of little voices continued. "Quiet! Hey!" Finally, after several attempts, Hogan whistled loudly. It did the trick and all the noise stopped. For a moment, anyway.

"Say, that was neat! Do it again!" someone cried from the crowd. A few other voices piped up in agreement.

The request, and the giddy tone in which it was given, caught Hogan by surprise. The alarm bells grew louder. Maybe Olsen's little stunt hadn't been an isolated incident. Maybe it was just the beginning of his men's mental deterioration. Great. Just great. So that water didn't just bring physical changes, but mental as well. How long would it take for the two to sync up? "What? No! We're here to-"

"Puh-leeze!" this came from Newkirk, who had dropped to his knees, hands clasped in front of him.

"No! Snap out of it you guys and pay attention!" There were a few soft murmurs of disappointment and even more sheepish looks.

"Sorry, guv. Don't know what came over me," Newkirk apologized. Well, there was one bright spot. They weren't completely gone.

"There's been a lot of that going around, lately. Look, I know this is hard, but you guys have got to keep it together. Got it?" The crowd nodded. "All right. Now, how many of you are there in here. Count off."

In unison, the whole crowd answered. "One!"

"Hey! I'm one!"

"No! I am!"

Several little battles broke out all over the room. Oh brother. Hogan took a moment to look heavenwards, searching for a reason why, of all people, was he the one that got thrown into situations like this. And then, with a deep breath, he went into the fray and started pulling children apart. "Hold it! HOLD IT!"

"Why don't you try whistling again, Colonel?" a barracks chief called from where he was also trying to break two youngsters apart.

Oh for the love of Mike. Hogan rolled his eyes. Well, it was worth a try. He whistled again.

"Hey, I thought you weren't going to do that again!" someone said when the trick worked again and the crowd quieted down.

"And I thought you were all going to pull yourselves together!" Hogan shot back, rather childishly himself. Oh great. He was getting far too caught up in this insanity along with the rest of them. "Now just settle down. Roberts," he said, motioning to a barracks chief. "Get a head count, would you."

"On it." Roberts picked his way through the mop-topped throng as if it were a mine field. "I count forty-two," Roberts reported after a few minutes. "Including Klink."

"Kommandant Klink!" Klink yelled from the corner, pointing his riding crop at Roberts with a scowl.

"Forty-two, including Kommandant Klink," Roberts amended. "I think four are from my barracks," he continued. "They were helping with the-" he cut himself off and shrugged but Hogan knew what he meant. Roberts' men had been in the tunnel when the spring had shot up.

"Right. Okay." Now what? Even if Hogan had an idea on how to fix this problem, which he didn't, his men were in no shape to comprehend it. "Look, until I figure a way to get things back to normal, I need you all to be on your best behaviour." There were a few puzzled looks as if a few of them didn't know what "best behaviour" was. "Meaning," Hogan continued, "you listen to what I or your barracks chief tell you.

"Okay, first thing we need to do is-"

"What about our clothes?" Newkirk interrupted. Quickly, he covered his mouth with his hand. "Sorry!"

Right. Though it wasn't his biggest concern, it was still one that Hogan needed to address. After all, he couldn't just let them all run around in their oversized pyjamas. "With the Kommandant's permission, we'll send Schultz into town."

"For forty-two outfits?" Klink exclaimed from the back. He marched up to Hogan and jabbed his leg with his riding crop. "And how are you going to pay for that? How would I explain that when General Burkhalter looks over my books?"

It was a good point. And a very adult question, Hogan noted with a hint of relief. It struck him as ironic that the person who was keeping himself together best was Klink.

"Don't worry Kommandant, my men and I have money." Klink gave him a suspicious look. "You know, from all those work projects we did outside camp last fall."

"And you saved it all?" Klink scoffed.

"Well, we were planning on spending it on an outing to the local hofbrau, but you declined our request for a weekend pass."

"Hmph. Very well. Give Schultz the money and I will send him to town."

"Happy Newkirk?" Hogan asked.

Newkirk crossed his arms over his chest. "As long as he doesn't bring me any ruddy lederhosen," he grumbled.

"All right, you barracks chiefs get over here," Hogan called to the grown men in the group. They gathered around him. He supposed he should've considered himself lucky that none of the chiefs were children as well. "Everyone just stay quiet for a few minutes while we figure this out," he ordered all the children. A few of them settled on the ground and started to play with their clothes.

Hogan was about to start giving instructions to the chiefs when he felt something push against his leg. He looked down to find Klink trying to squeeze his way into the middle of the huddle. "Klink, what are you doing?"

Klink looked up at Hogan with a petulant expression on his face. "Hogan, I am still Kommandant of this camp. I don't want you to use this meeting as a chance to plan an escape!"

"Believe me, Colonel, an escape is the last thing on my mind." For now, anyway. But if this madness kept up, Hogan wasn't sure he could keep himself from breaking out.

"I still want to be part of this," Klink said firmly.

There was no use in arguing. As Klink had pointed out earlier, he still had the power to throw Hogan into the cooler. "Fine. Here's the plan. I need you all to break the guys into groups and question them. Find out when and how much of that water they drank. Find out how old they were and how old they figure they are now. Maybe we can find some sort of common denominator."

"How's that going to help us get things back to normal?" Roberts asked.

"Beats me," Hogan admitted. "But it might come in handy. Look, I don't know what the hell to do about all this. But if you guys have any ideas, I'd sure like to know about them." It was a very rare thing for Hogan to admit he had no idea what to do, and he never admitted it to any of the men outside his core group. But this was a whole different ball of wax compared to what was usually going on around camp. It was one thing to act in control when some Kraut general made a surprise visit or when a mission to blow something up went wrong. That was easy. But no amount of quick thinking was going to get him out of this mess.

The chiefs shared a look and shrugged. "Okay then. Get to it," Hogan ordered. The group broke up and the chiefs went about their assignment. "Well Kommandant, do you have any ideas?"

"No," Klink sighed. Suddenly he stiffened and paled. "But now that I think of it, I may just have another problem for you to solve."

Hogan knew from his tone that he wasn't going to like whatever Klink said. "What's that?"

"General Burkhalter is coming for an inspection tomorrow."

He was right. He didn't like it at all.


	8. Wounded Pride

Hogan sat at the table in the barrack's common room, going over the chiefs' scribbled notes. Nothing was really matching up, he surmised as he took a sip of his coffee. A thirty year old prisoner had just a glass full and was now in the same state as a twenty year old prisoner who had drank twice as much. The men who had been soaked by the stuff after getting caught in the eruption of water were older than the guys who had just nipped at the water while fixing up a trough.

Hogan dropped his face into his hands and rubbed his eyes. He was getting nowhere with this. And to make matters worse, he was on a schedule. He had to find a way to get everything back to normal before Burkhalter got to camp. Or find a way to stall him.

Draining the last of his coffee, Hogan let out a frustrated side and ran a hand through his hair. This whole situation was going to make him prematurely grey.

"Do you want me to get you some more, mon colonel?" LeBeau asked from beside him as he reached for Hogan's cup.

Hogan, who hadn't realized LeBeau was sitting so close, slid away from him in surprise. There wasn't a lot of room to move though because Olsen was on the other side of him, chin resting in his hands, looking as bored as ever.

"Did you figure anything out Colonel?" Kinch asked from across the table. He was flanked by Goldman and Newkirk, who were practically laying on the tabletop, trying to get a look at the papers.

Hogan shifted awkwardly as the other children in the room moved closer, looking up at him expectantly. There was no reason to be nervous around them, Hogan told himself. They were still his men, trained soldiers and spies, just pint-sized and in overgrown shirts. But Hogan couldn't help but feel like a mouse in a room full of kittens.

"Nothing. Northing they have there makes sense. And LeBeau, stay away from that stove, you'll burn yourself!"

LeBeau was on his tiptoes next to the stove, trying to reach the coffeepot. Hogan's order startled him and he backed away. The look of surprise was quickly replaced with an indignant scowl. "I will not," the Frenchman muttered. "I have been cooking since I was smaller than this."

"I believe you, LeBeau. You just worried- I didn't want you-" Hogan groaned inwardly. He didn't want to offend LeBeau any further. "I don't want anymore coffee, thanks."

"What if I want some?" LeBeau challenged.

Not a good idea. Hogan didn't know a lot about children, but he was sure coffee and children didn't mix. "It'll stunt your growth." That earned him a death glare.

"So what's the plan, Colonel?" Carter asked. He came up behind LeBeau and grabbed the coffee cup out of his hands. LeBeau reached up to grab it back, but Carter ignored him and set it on a shelf.

"I don't have one yet," Hogan sighed. "But I need to come up with one fast. Klink told me Burkhalter is coming for an inspection tomorrow." Not only that, but he was quickly losing his sanity. And the thought of having his men completely regressing into children terrified him. Keeping them away from the stove would be the least of his worries.

"Blimey, that doesn't give us much time, does it? Do you think we can stall him?" Newkirk asked hopefully.

"The question is, how?"

"Why don't we have General Kinchmeyer call him? Make up an excuse to take Burkhalter somewhere else." LeBeau suggested.

"The only problem with that is I don't exactly sound like General Kinchmeyer," Kinch pointed out.

"What about someone else from camp?" Carter suggested. "General Hoganmuller can be just as pushy as General Kinchmeyer."

"It's worth a shot," Hogan agreed. "Kinch, go put the call through."

"Right." Kinch slid off the bench and under the table. He crawled out from underneath a moment later and scampered to his bunk. Standing on the very tips of his toes, he tried to reach the panel that opened the trapdoor. "I can't reach it," he ground out. Hogan slid up behind him and smacked his bunk. The trapdoor opened and with a little effort, Kinch made it over the bed frame and climbed down the ladder.

"Okay, everyone stay up here, I'll be back. Don't get into trouble." He gave LeBeau a pointed look before following Kinch down the ladder.

He heard Newkirk snort. "Treats us like bloody children."

If only that were a joke, Hogan thought ruefully. He hopped down off the ladder and walked up to the radio set. Kinch was already there, standing on a chair and fiddling with wires. Hogan sat patiently on a crate and waited. "You got it, Kinch?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Ummm…"

"Um?" Hogan repeated. Kinch was the last person he expected to give him an answer like that. "What does 'um' mean?"

"Well we can't use the radio," Kinch explained. "We need to tap into Klink's phone line."

"So what's the problem?" Hogan asked. He rose to his feet and watched over Kinch's shoulder as the sergeant rummaged through the mess of wires.

"I just have to remember how to do it," Kinch said. There was a little waver in his voice and tears were building up in the corner of his eyes. "Maybe if I hook this into there. Or maybe-"

"Forget it, Kinch," Hogan sighed.

"No, I can do it!" Kinch argued.

"Just don't worry about it." Kinch ignored him and started tugging on a wire. Hogan grabbed his hand gently and pulled it back. "Some other time, Kinch."

Kinch looked from his little hand wrapped in Hogan's much bigger one, to Hogan and nodded miserably. "Sure, Colonel. Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't worry about it," Hogan said softly. Clearing his throat, he adopted a cheerier tone as he strolled back to the ladder. "Besides, I've already got another idea."

"What's that, Colonel?" Kinch asked, following behind him.

"It turns out that Kommandant Klink has an awful cold and he-" he paused and looked down from a few rungs up the ladder at Kinch, who was hesitantly starting his climb up. "You need some help, Kinch?"

"No, I can do it myself," Kinch grumbled.

And take a year doing it, Hogan thought with a grimace. But Kinch's pride was already hurt and to help him would be like rubbing salt in the wound. "Like I was saying, Klink's lost his voice and so he's going to ask Fraulein Hilda to call the General and reschedule."

"You think it will work?" Kinch grunted as he pulled himself up another rung.

"It's got to." When he got to the top, he waited for Kinch. As Kinch neared the top, Hogan silently offered a hand, which Kinch took. As soon as he was over the bunk though, he dropped it and shuffled to a corner. Hogan decided to leave him alone and turned his attention to Carter. "Carter, did you guys bottle any of that water?"

"Sure did, Colonel. We have a stash in the tunnels." There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he continued. "You want a taste?"

"Not funny," Hogan growled. Oh, wouldn't that be peachy. "Look, before I lose you too, I want-"

"Lose me?" Carter repeated.

"Lose your expertise that is," Hogan explained. He heard Kinch snort from the corner. "I need you to get to your lab and examine this stuff."

"Sure thing, Colonel. You don't have to worry about me." Carter grinned as he climbed onto the ladder and gave a little salute. "After all, sir, I've been doing this since I was a-"

"Don't say it, Carter," Hogan ordered. "Just go."

"Sorry, sir. You're right. This is no time to be kid-ding around." And with a laugh, he was gone.

Hogan rolled his eyes and started for the door. "I'll be back," he announced.

"Yes Father," his men sang in a sarcastic chorus.

"Please, don't even joke," Hogan groaned. He made a quick retreat from the barracks and high-tailed it across the compound. As he went, he found two guards posted next to the fountain of water. Klink must've ordered it, Hogan concluded. How… sensible. Klink was on the ball. In fact, with the way he was acting, Klinke stood a better chance of getting promoted to general now than he was yesterday.

Whether that was true or not didn't stop Klink from acting like a general. When Hogan entered the office, he found Klink sitting on Hilda's lap, snuggled up close to her as he chattered on about something. Hilda just listened with an affectionate smile. The sight stopped Hogan in his tracks.

"Kommandant?"

"Oh, hello Hogan," Klink greeted with a sigh of contentment. "You don't have to worry about explaining anything to Fraulein Hilda. Schultz and I told her when she arrived. She's been very sympathetic."

"I see that," Hogan said flatly.

"Oh Colonel Hogan, isn't it terrible. Poor Colonel Klink," Hilda cooed as she stroked Klink's thick black hair. "But isn't he just adorable?"

"Sure." He eyed Hilda curiously. She had never struck him as the maternal type, but he was smart enough to keep that observation to himself. "Listen, Klink, I have an idea on what to do about General Burkhalter."

"Can it wait?"

"No."

"All right, what is it?" Klink asked, tearing his attention away from Hilda to look at Hogan.

"We'll just have Hilda call him up, tell him your sick and reschedule," Hogan explained. "Simple."

"Very," Klink said. There was a disappointed tone in his voice, as if he were expecting something more complicated. "Fraulein Hilda, will you make the call?"

"Of course." Hilda picked up the phone. "General Burkhalter's headquarters' please."

"You're an angel," Klink sighed. Hilda tapped his nose with a smile. Hogan just rolled his eyes. Klink was milking this for all it was worth.

"General Burkhalter? This is Kommandant Klink's secretary… Yes, that one… Why thank-you, Herr General, you're too kind… Yes, I know you are, but Kommandant Klink is very ill and… yes, Herr General. I will tell him… Danke… Oh, General! I'm sure you say that to all the girls… yes, I am too, General. Good-bye."

"What did he say?" Hogan asked when she hung up.

"The General should remember he's a married man," Hilda said coolly.

"Not that. What did he say about the inspection?" Klink asked.

"He said that he will either see you tomorrow or you will have to recover from your illness on the Russian front," Hilda informed them.

Klink scowled and turned a dangerous eye to Hogan. "Simple," he growled. "That's what you said, 'simple'! A simple way to have me transferred!"

"Are you crazy? He wouldn't send you to the Russian front like that."

"I'm not worried about the Russian front!" Klink cried.

"All right, calm down I'll think of something else. Don't worry." Klink just grunted. "Look, I have to get back to my men. Who knows what sort of trouble they've gotten into."

He went to the door and Hilda quickly set Klink of the floor to follow him. "The Kommandant tells me that your men are also children," she said, leaning against the door so Hogan couldn't open it. Hogan nodded. "How is that for you?"

"Oh, I'm doing all right. Not easy on my own though," he said with a dramatic sigh. "Men weren't made to raise kids by themselves. Sure wish I had someone with a feminine touch to help me out." Hilda gave a noncommittal shrug. "You know someone who wants to help me raise forty kids?"

"How about ten?" she countered, wiggling her left ring finger.

Sneaky. There was more to that question. "How 'bout a dog?" Hilda didn't not look too impressed as she moved away from the door arms folded across her chest. Hogan cleared his throat and opened the door. "Gotta go." He quickly slipped out.

"Ten? Not on your life, lady!"


	9. Opinions on Lederhosen and Girls

Just as Kinch had reported yesterday, the tunnels were a mess. Hogan hadn't bothered to notice when he and Kinch had tried tapping into Klink's phone line earlier. But now, on his way to Carter's lab, Hogan could take a few minutes to inspect the damage. All sort of debris littered the passageways all throughout the tunnels. One passageway was completely washed out. Luckily, the most vital parts of the operation were intact: Kinch's radio room, Carter's lab with all of its explosives, and the forgery center with all their fake money and important papers. Newkirk's sewing room was somewhere past the washed out passage en route to the cooler. Hogan could only hope that the room itself and all the German uniforms in there weren't completely destroyed.

And all this because LeBeau had wanted to steal eggs from the kitchen. That's what they got for getting greedy.

"All right, what have you got for me, Carter?" Hogan asked as soon as he entered Carter's lab. He was in no mood to beat around the bush.

Carter, who was peering intently at the contents of a test tube, looked up at Hogan in surprise. "Oh, hey, Colonel. I didn't hear you coming. Here's the water, sir."

"Did you analyze it?" Hogan asked as he came up to Carter's work bench. It looked like something that popped out of a bad horror flick; all sorts of flasks and tubes were bubbling away on Bunsen burners. And Carter, wearing an oversized lab coat and gloves, looked every bit the mad scientist. Or, rather, the mad scientist's younger brother.

"Sure did, Colonel. You know what this is?"

"What?" Hogan asked, somewhat impatiently.

"It's water!"

"What?" Hogan cried, this time in astonishment. "Water? Carter, that's not water! Water does not turn grown men into children." Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head slightly. "I waited too long. I should've had you analyze that stuff before you became too much of a kid. I should've-"

"Hey wait a minute sir," Carter interrupted, sounding a little miffed. "I told you I've been doing this since I was a kid, maybe not as well or as much as now, or yesterday I guess because yesterday I was my good, old, normal self, but I know what I'm doing and believe you me, there's nothing wrong with my findings! This is water! I've ran every test I could on it. It's good, old fashioned H-two-O!"

"But it can't be," Hogan argued. "If it's just water, then it wouldn't be sweet and it wouldn't do what it does!"

Carter sighed and shrugged. "Gosh, sir, I don't know what to tell you. But it's water. I promise." He crossed his fingers over his heart. "Maybe there's just no scientific explanation. Maybe it's just… magic or something."

Hogan gave him a pointed look. "Magic? Come on Carter. Aren't you a little old to- never mind." With a defeated sigh, Hogan took the test tube from Carter and held it up to the light. "Just water, huh?"

"Yup."

"Run the tests again. There's gotta be more to it." He handed the tube back to Carter.

Carter scrunched his nose. "Yes sir," he grumbled. He set the tube on a rack. Then, he reached for something on his desk and popped it into his mouth. "Jellybean, sir? Maybe it'll help you cheer up, because, boy, are you grumpy." He quickly covered his mouth, eyes wide. "I mean…"

Hogan waited for him to continue with an apology, but Carter just shrugged and ducked away. "Yeah, I am grumpy. But I think I have every right to be. Don't you? Forty guys in my command are barely out of kindergarten!"

Carter didn't look very impressed at Hogan's play for sympathy. "I've got four little sisters, Colonel," Carter muttered. "They're always trying to get us to play dolls with them, always getting us in trouble with Mom, acting like a few frogs in their bed is a capital offence, and they're the ones who are always making us late for church, not me and Jack. We just get tired of waiting and wander off and then Dad makes us do extra chores and-" Carter suddenly stopped. "Well, anyway, sir, I'd take forty boys over them any day if I were you, Colonel."

Hogan just grunted and cast a glance at the bag of jellybeans Carter had on the desk. "Where'd you get those anyway?" he asked, changing the subject. He was a little unnerved by Carter's rant, which had sounded more like present grievances against his sisters rather than past. "We haven't gotten any Red Cross packages in over two months. Besides, we're supposed to use them to bribe Schultz."

"Schultz doesn't like the black ones," Carter pointed out. "And neither do any of the guys. I don't know why; they're the best ones, I think." He grabbed a few and flicked one into his mouth. "So they gave 'em all to me. I didn't even have to trade any cigarettes or anything like that. I don't have that many left though. I was eating them like crazy yesterday while I was helping clear out the tunnels, for a little extra energy, you know, and I was down here all day. It sure is a mess, Colonel. I don't know how long it's going to take us to clear in out, especially now that we're all kids. Say, Colonel, do you think that, if we can't come up with a way to change ourselves back, that the Krauts will send us back home? Or would they transfer us to an orphanage? Or maybe they'd make a special Stalag for us. Stalag 0.5! Or-"

"Carter," Hogan groaned. The sergeant was more chatty than ever and it was giving him a headache.

"Yeah, Colonel?"

"Just let me know when you find something else in that water other than 'H' and 'O', okay."

Carter shrugged. "All right. But like I said, I ran every test I could and it's not like I grabbed the wrong water- this is the stuff all right. It's water. But I'll do what I can. I'll stay here all day if I have to."

"Just be up in time for roll call." Hogan turned to leave but stopped and quickly snatched Carter's bag of jellybeans. The last thing he needed was for Carter to get hopped up on sugar while playing with fire and chemicals.

"Hey!"

"Don't worry, Carter, they're safe with me. I don't like the black ones either." And with that, Hogan left the lab and headed back to the barracks above.

The trapdoor had just closed when Schultz burst into the barracks, his arms loaded with packages. All the men, who had been loafing around the common room, looking despondent and bored, immediately perked up. Even Hogan felt a little twinge of relief. At least now, his men couldn't be constantly tripping over their clothes.

"Schultz is back!" Newkirk exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Bout bloody time! I'm going round the bend wearing this shirt!" He tugged on his shirt in distaste. "Might as well have been fitted to me by a German tailor!"

Schultz clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Newkirk, such a naughty thing to say. The clothes I brought you were made by a German and I think it will fit you just fine."

Newkirk didn't look convinced but went up to Schultz away and started pawing at him. "You didn't bring me lederhosen, did you? I don't want to look like a ruddy Kraut ragamuffin. "

"Lederhosen will not make you look like a ragamuffin or any muffin!" Schultz said indignantly.

When it looked like Newkirk was going to continue their inane argument, Hogan decided to intervene. He grabbed Newkirk and tucked him under his arm. "Enough of that. Can we get on with this Schultz? These guys are wearing holes into their clothes from tripping over them."

"Right!" Schultz spilled the packages onto the table while muttering something about muffins under his breath. Everyone gathered around and waited restlessly while Schultz untied all the packages.

"I wanna see!" Newkirk shouted, trying to free himself. "Is it lederhosen? I don't _want_ lederhosen!"

"Would you knock it off with the lederhosen, already?" Hogan cried, exasperated by Newkirk's irrational aversion to the breeches.

"Yeah, Newkirk, knock it off already!" Olsen echoed from the other side of the table. He stuck his tongue out at Newkirk and glanced up at Hogan as if expecting some sort of praise.

Hogan just gave Schultz a pathetic and pleading look. "How would your wife feel about you taking some kids home, Schultz? You've already got five, what's two or three or ten more?"

"Colonel Hogan, it is true I have five children, but-" he was cut off as two of the boys started fighting over the outfits Schultz had just given them. Hogan practically dropped Newkirk to break them up. What were they fighting over anyway? The color of their shirts from the sound of it. Oh brother!

"But what, Schultz? Really, I'll give you as many as you want! No charge! Ow! Hey, no hitting the colonel!" These two were going to be on KP for a month when they returned to normal. If they returned to normal.

"But," Schultz continued as he handed Newkirk an outfit that was devoid of anything close to resembling lederhosen, "they are all girls. And if you ask me, it would take a thousand girls to cause as much trouble as one boy!"


	10. Don't Forget Fate

Colonel Klink cheered wildly as the room spun around him at a dizzying speed. For the last twenty minutes, he had been spinning in his chair behind his desk. He had attempted to do some paperwork but after five minutes, it had become almost unintelligible to him and so he had to find other ways of occupying his time.

His chair finally came to a slow stop and he was just about to start another spin when the door opened.

"Colonel Klink, I have brought your dinner!"

Klink just looked up at the large man, a mixture of fear and confusion sweeping through him. Who was this man? He looked somewhat familiar, but Klink couldn't quite put his finger on it. Suddenly, it occurred to Klink that he didn't really know where he was. Some sort of office. He looked around, trying to figure out why he was there. The man in front of him was in uniform… a guard… a soldier… a sergeant… Schultz!

Klink let out a sigh of relief. The man was Sergeant Schultz, and he was Colonel Klink, Kommandant of Stalag 13. He remembered now.

"Kommandant Klink, are you all right?" Schultz asked as he set Klink's dinner on his desk and knelt down beside him. "Kommandant?"

Klink drew a shaky breath and shook his head. "Get Hogan." When Schultz didn't immediately move, Klink repeated his demand.

"Jawohl, Kommandant." Schultz got up and, after a quick salute, ran out of the office.

What was happening? Klink grabbed himself as his body started to tremble. He knew the answer to his question. He was starting to forget. His memories were retreating to childhood. Things that had happened forty five years ago were now in the forefront of his mind. He could remember his kindergarten teacher clear as day, while all memories of Schultz were fading into the distance.

Panic swallowed him up and Klink frantically dove under his desk, trying to somehow hide from what was happening. "You're Kommandant Klink of Stalag 13," Klink said to himself as hot tears streamed down his face. "You run the toughest POW camp in all of Germany! Pull yourself together, there's a war going on!"

Even as he repeated his own words to himself, he knew it was hopeless. It was only a matter of time before he forgot everything. He couldn't let that happen. Somehow he had to retain a basic knowledge of his situation. He didn't have to remember the exact day, or what he had for breakfast the other morning, or even how to play the violin. He just had to hold onto his memory of Stalag 13 and his job as kommandant and… Hogan. Yes, he had to remember Hogan. Hogan was the only one who could get him out of this mess, he was sure of it.

"Colonel?" And there he was. Klink let out a loud sob, but made no attempt to leave the safety of his hiding place. After a moment, Hogan's feet stepped into Klink's view and then the rest of Hogan as he crouched down. "Colonel Klink?" He kept speaking, but Klink couldn't understand anything he was saying. Why not? Why wasn't Hogan making sense? This was no time to be joking! This was no time to… speak English.

Klink's eyes widened with horror. He had forgotten how to speak English. This was bad. Very bad. What was he supposed to do now? "Stop!" Klink cried in German. "Stop, I don't understand you!"

Hogan blinked in surprise. For a moment, it looked like he was having an inner debate before he started speaking again. "It's all right. Stop crying. Everything's going to be all right."

The soothing words, spoken in German, almost had the opposite effect as Klink found himself wanting to cry with overwhelming relief. Hogan spoke German! "Oh Hogan!" Klink wailed as he buried his face into his knees. He could hear Hogan curse under his breath and a moment later, he felt Hogan grab him and carefully pull him out from under the desk. Klink clutched onto his jacket and held him tightly. Hogan seemed to tense, but patted his back reassuringly.

Finally, Klink pulled himself together and practically pushed himself away from Hogan. Hogan set him on the ground and Klink took a moment to straighten his new clothes. He cleared his throat and dried his eyes, taking a moment to collect himself before he continued. "I didn't know you spoke German, Hogan."

Hogan just shrugged. "What's wrong, Klink?" he asked, his tone of voice all business. Strangely, it was exactly what Klink needed. He needed Hogan to talk to him on an adult level. It helped him remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"Isn't it obvious? I don't understand English! I had to remind myself who Schultz was! I'm losing my mind! I'm forgetting everything except my childhood memories! Hogan, what are we going to do?"

Hogan pushed his cap off his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "The same thing is starting to happen to my men too. LeBeau is barely making any sense any more. But, Colonel, I don't know what to do. I don't even know if there's a way to return you guys to normal."

It wasn't what Klink wanted to hear. And he especially didn't want to hear it from Hogan. Hogan was supposed to be able to fix any problem. How many times had he kept him off the Russian front? How many times had he saved him from Frau Linkmeyer? "Hogan, you have to think of something! Anything!"

"I'm working on it, Klink. But there just might not be anything I can do about it."

Klink slumped in defeat. "I don't want to be a child," he sighed after a moment. "I didn't like being a child the first time around. And with everything going on now-" he glanced quickly at the portrait of the fuehrer by his desk- "what a horrible time to be young."

"I don't know about that. This just might be the perfect time to have a shell of youthful ignorance." There was a pause before Hogan cleared his throat. "Jellybean?" he offered as he pulled a small bag from out of his pocket and knelt down to Klink's level.

"Jellybean? How can you think of food at a time like this?"

Hogan shrugged. "Might cheer you up."

Klink gave him a doubtful look, but took a handful anyway. "Thank-you." He noticed that Hogan hadn't looked up from the jellybeans in his hand. "Is something wrong, Hogan?"

"Jellybeans," Hogan whispered. "That's crazy though. Impossible."

"What's impossible, Hogan, what?" Klink eyed the jellybeans suspiciously.

"I was just thinking, Carter was munching on these yesterday… Maybe they have something to do with the fact he's not as young as everyone else."

Klink gave Hogan a sceptical look. "That is crazy." He put a hand to Hogan's forehead. "I think you're a little warm. Say 'ah'."

"Some other time, Klink. I've gotta go."

"But wait!" Klink cried when Hogan got up to leave. Hogan paused and looked back at him expectantly. He couldn't let Hogan just leave him. Who was going to tuck him in? No- he didn't need to be tucked in, Klink berated himself. But he didn't want to be left on his own in any case. Being around Hogan would help him remember who and what he was. Left to his own, he might forget to remind himself of what was going on. He supposed he could get Schultz to stay with him, but it wouldn't be the same. Schultz was Schultz and Hogan was… well, Hogan.

Klink fumbled with his words as he continued. "I can't stay by myself. I'll forget."

With a sigh, Hogan crossed his arms over his chest and grabbed his elbows. "Get Schultz to stay with you."

"But Schultz… Schultz won't…" He gave up trying to explain feelings he didn't even understand. He just didn't want Schultz.

"Klink, what's General Burkhalter going to say when he finds out you spent the night sleeping with your prisoners?"

"The same thing he'll say when he finds out I'm a child, I suppose. Besides, I don't have to go to your barracks; you can stay here," Klink suggested hopefully.

Hogan shook his head. "I'm not going to leave my men by themselves."

"But there are plenty of men in camp that can watch your barracks for the night." Klink's tone of voice became desperate.

Hogan muttered something in English. "Klink, it's not going to work. I can't-"

Klink clasped his hands together under his chins and opened his eyes real wide, allowing them to water up with tears. "Please!" Hogan tried to look away, again muttering in English. Klink dropped onto his knees. "Please!"

"Klink, you're embarrassing yourself." Klink didn't care and so he didn't let up on his attack. "Oh all right! Stop looking at me like that!"

Obediently, Klink put on a less threatening expression. If he had known Hogan had been such a push-over for a pathetic face, he would've tried it a long time ago. For what, he wasn't sure, but it was useful information nonetheless.

"All right, eat your dinner. Can you find your way to my barracks?"

Klink shot him a dirty look. "Of course I can! What do you take me for?"

"Don't tempt me with questions like that, Kommandant." Hogan looked back down at his bag of jellybeans. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've gotta see a man about some candy."

"Hogan?" Klink said before Hogan could leave. "Do you really expect me to believe those are magic beans?"

"Why not? I expected you to believe the water was from the fountain of youth. And look how right I was with that."

Klink couldn't argue with that. "Sometimes, Hogan, I think you say things and Fate just decided to plays along."

Hogan looked down at the jellybeans and then upwards. "From your lips to Fate's ears, Klink."


	11. The Kids' Plan

Hogan clutched the bag of jellybeans protectively, as if his very life depended upon its safety. Well, maybe his life didn't depend upon it, but his sanity certainly did. It was crazy and impossible and downright silly that this could solve his problem. But then again, Hogan mused, the problem itself was crazy and impossible and downright silly.

He paused just outside his barracks, hand resting on the door as he looked down at the brown bag. Did he waste time having Carter analyze it? No, they were just jellybeans for Pete sakes. Just like the 'water' had just been water. A frustrated growl rumbled in his throat. When this was all over, he was going to send all the water he could to London- maybe they could find something Carter couldn't.

No, he wasn't going to waste time with Carter. He was just going to give the bag to one of his men and have them dive in. But which one? Hogan quickly weighed his options. He wasn't too worried about Carter, who was already half-way normal. And though Olsen and Newkirk were wearing on his nerves a little, they could wait too. LeBeau, however, was quickly forgetting his English and that could lead to problems. Hogan waved that worry aside; there were plenty of French speakers in camp that could help out.

Hogan looked back down at the bag. If this crazy idea did solve his problems, he would need to get his hands on more jellybeans which would require a drop from London. Which would require a call to London. Which would require his radioman.

Kinch it was.

Hogan felt a small weight lift from his shoulders. Radio expertise aside, he could really use Kinch's calm, level-headed support to keep him sane.

Unfortunately, this five-year-old version of Kinch wasn't quite as logical and level-headed as the one Hogan was use to.

"I don't like the black ones," Kinch grumbled as Hogan tried for the third time to talk some sense into him. It was like beating his head into a brick wall. Kinch sat on the edge of his bunk, arms folded across his chest, jaw set and eyes defiant.

"You don't like being a kid either, do you?" Hogan countered. For a brief moment, confusion played across Kinch's features before being replaced with suspicion. Hogan was half-tempted to just shove the candy down Kinch's throat. "Look, I'm you're commanding officer and I'm ordering you to eat this bag of candy, got it?"

Kinch let out a contemptuous snort. "Don't gotta do nothing," he muttered.

Hogan sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Kinch." He rested a hand on Kinch's shoulder, causing Kinch to tense. There was a mountain of distrust in the boy's eyes. "Kinch, pull yourself together. I need you."

The softness of his tone seemed to crack the hard shell around Kinch. The boy studied him intently, as if honestly trying to figure out why he should trust him. Finally, Kinch's body sagged with relief and he let out a long sigh. "Colonel."

"Yeah. You okay?"

"It took me a minute," Kinch said softly. "Forgot who you were."

"You're not the only one. Sure you're okay? You remember now?" Kinch nodded. "Good. Now eat the damn candy."

Kinch groaned but took the bag from Hogan. He squeezed his eyes shut and popped a handful into his mouth. "Yuck."

"Good boy. The whole bag now."

Kinch looked wounded at the order, but obediently grabbed another handful. Hogan clapped him on the knee and gave him a small smile.

"Hey, why does he get dessert?" Olsen asked from the table where he and the rest of the children were eating their dinner.

"It's not dessert, it's medicine," Hogan said calmly.

"Looks like jellybeans," Olsen argued.

"Well they aren't."

Olsen looked from Hogan to Kinch, who was making horrible faces, and shrugged. "Okay," he said before turning back to his soup.

Well that was easy. None of the other children questioned Kinch's medicine, too intent on eating their food as loudly as they could. Hogan tensed as the sounds of slurping grated against his nerves. But he wasn't about to start a potential war over getting them to eat civilly. Instead, he marched into his room and shut the door firmly behind him.

Once in the quiet of his room, Hogan began to pace. The whole jellybean idea had better pay off, Hogan groused to himself. If it didn't he wasn't quite sure what he was going to do. Either way, he would have to wait until morning to find out so there was no use worrying about it now. There were problems he had to deal with at the moment. Like how he was going to deal with General Burkhalter.

There was no time to wait for Kinch to get back to normal. Even if his radioman was good to go in the morning, it would be too late for General Kinchmeyer to do anything.

They could always contact the underground and have them come up with something. Nope, that was out too. Hogan wasn't sure the radio was even working after Kinch had fiddled with it earlier. And if they waited until morning, the underground might not be able to pull anything together.

No radio meant no contacting London for an air raid either.

Hogan grunted in frustration. He was so use to having so many resources at his disposal. Now he had very few. Hell, he couldn't even use the most important part of his operation- his men.

He had other men, sure, but none of them had the qualifications or experience of his core team. Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter were the best at what they did. They weren't easily replaced. But they were all out of commission now so there was no use griping- it wouldn't help him think of a solution.

Hogan stopped mid-step as a thought struck him. So far, all he could think about were the things he couldn't do with this situation. But there had to be some advantages to having a bunch of kids around.

Grabbing his elbows, Hogan rocked on his heels for a moment before continuing his pacing around the room. Maybe he could somehow distract Burkhlater using a few of the kids outside camp. Maybe…

No. It was too dangerous, wasn't it. What if he sent them out and they completely forgot what they were doing? The Gestapo would have no qualms about executing a bunch of kids, he was sure. But then again, who would ever suspect a bunch of kids in the middle of Germany as being Allied spies?

A knock at his door shook him from his thoughts. The door opened slightly as Carter poked his head into the room. "Colonel?"

"Yeah?"

"Schultz just brought Colonel Klink here," Carter reported.

Hogan sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, I'll be right out."

"You okay, Colonel?" Carter asked. "You look tired."

"I'm okay. Just past my bedtime," Hogan replied. "Come on, let's get Klink settled."

"Settled?" Carter repeated, a horrified look crossing his face. "You mean, he's spending the night?"

"Yeah. Look, don't ask. It wasn't really my idea."

Carter gave him an incredulous look. "Whose idea was it then?"

"Klink's."

"Klink's? You mean you let Kommandant _Klink_ talk you into this?"

"I said don't ask," Hogan groaned. How exactly had Klink talked him into this anyway? Hogan shrugged. If anyone asked, he would just tell them the Kommandant had threatened him with life in the cooler. That sounded a whole lot better than saying Klink and his big eyes had Hogan wrapped around his little finger.

"Colonel Hogan," Schultz greeted with a salute when Hogan came into the common room. "Escorting Kommandant Klink to your hut as ordered."

"Fine, fine, Schultz," Hogan acknowledged with a lazy salute.

"Well, goodnight, Colonel Hogan," Schultz said as he moved to leave. He paused at the door and gave Hogan a little grin. "And good luck."

"Thanks a lot, Schultz," Hogan grumbled. He looked down at Klink who looked back expectantly. The Kommandant was clad in an oversized pyjama shirt and clutched a pillow and blanket in his hands.

"Blimey, wots he doing here with all that?" Newkirk asked suspiciously as he slid off the bench and ambled up to Klink. Klink took a small step closer to Hogan, watching Newkirk warily. "He spending the night?"

Hogan nodded and put a hand on Klink's shoulder. He quickly took it off and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah he is."

Newkirk looked like someone had smacked him. "You're barmy! Letting him stay here with us? He's the bleedin' Kommandant!"

"All right, all right, hold up!" Hogan hollered when Newkirk's statement caused the other men to kick up a ruckus of complaint. "Yes, the Kommandant is staying the night. Hopefully it'll help him remember what's going on around here." His explanation was met with a roomful of incredulous looks. "Look fellas, we have more important things to worry about right now."

"Like what?" Newkirk challenged.

"Like what we're going to do about General Burkhalter in the morning."

"Still haven't come up with anything, Colonel?" Carter asked.

"No. And there's no way we can let him see you all like this. Do you realize what the Krauts would do if they get a hold of this water?" There were some frightening possibilities to be considered.

"That's true," Kinch said from his bunk. "But what makes you think Klink and the guards aren't going to tell Burkhalter about the water anyway?"

"I'm pretty sure I can convince Klink to keep quiet," Hogan said with a shrug.

Newkirk snorted. "Couldn't even convince him to stay in his own quarters tonight."

Hogan shot Newkirk a pointed look. "All right, Newkirk, I'm not thrilled about it either, but it's not the end of the world. And I don't need you fighting me over it either."

"Yeah, lighten up, Newkirk," Olsen scolded.

"Nor do I need help from the peanut gallery, Olsen." Olsen pouted and looked down at his soup. Ah geez, now he felt like a heel. Since when did he develop such a guilty conscience?

"Colonel Hogan," Klink finally said, tugging on Hogan's pant leg. "What is going on?"

"Nothing," Hogan replied in German. "Just trying to figure out what we're going to do about General Burkhalter."

"He can't see me like this!" Klink exclaimed.

"Well he will if we don't think of anything." He looked back at his men. "All right, I need ideas."

There was a moment of silence before Carter perked up. "Say, why don't we just blow up the road leading to Stalag 13! I've got some nice sticks of dynamite down in the tunnel."

"Which you aren't allowed to use until you're back to normal," Hogan shot back. "Besides, that just might make Burkhalter or the Gestapo suspicious."

"Mon colonel," LeBeau piped up. "I… j'ai… " The little corporal scrunched up his face as if trying to figure out how to say what he wanted. Finally he sighed and stood up at his place on the bench. Puffing out his cheeks he moved his arm out over his stomach and then pointed to himself.

"You're General Burkhalter," Hogan guessed. LeBeau nodded and then pointed down to his soup. He took a sip of it and then clutched his throat before hopping off the bench. He twirled and spun about for a moment or so, making gagging noises before dramatically collapsing to the floor. He writhed about and then stilled, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

Hogan bit back a laugh. "Very theatrical, but we're not poisoning Burkhalter." LeBeau opened one eye and looked up at Hogan. "No, LeBeau. Non!" LeBeau scowled and picked himself off the ground, muttering to himself in French. "Look, we'd have to get him into camp to poison him anyway," Hogan explained, trying to make amends. "Besides, we can't just kill him. He's a pain, but what if we got stuck with someone even worse?"

LeBeau apparently didn't understand and continued to pout. Hogan sighed. "Any other ideas?" He was getting a headache.

"I know!" Carter exclaimed. "Why don't we give Burkhalter a glass of the water and have him turn into a kid too!"

"No!" Hogan cried abruptly. No way, no how! It was one thing to deal with kiddie Klink and his men, it was another to deal with a kiddie Burkhalter. "Besides, we don't want Burkhalter to find out about the water."

"Well why don't we…" Carter started but trailed off.

"Why don't we what?" Hogan prodded.

"It's silly," Carter admitted with a shrug, looking down at his feet and kicking an imaginary rock.

"Let's have it."

"Well, I remember when my cousin Tommy and me set up a lemonade stand last… in the summer… once. We set up on a main road and a bunch of people came. See, I was visiting him in the big city and it was sure hot and… well, why don't we do that? Set up a stand and drug Burkhalter's drink? Just knock him out for a while or something…"

"A lemonade stand's a little too American, don't you think?"

"I told you it was silly," Carter sighed.

"Yeah…" Hogan grabbed his chin and started to pace. "But it just might work. With a little modification."

"Really?"

"Really. The trick would be getting Burkhalter to stop at it."

"Just need to right incentive," Kinch said. He swiped his arm in front of him. "'Support General Kinchmeyer's much adored children. Fresh lemonade. Five cents. Cooled to perfection with thoughts of the Russian Front.'"

Hogan snorted. He really was going insane because he was seriously considering the whole scenario. He just had to find a way to make it work.


	12. Operation Bedtime

Operation Bedtime. It would be executed with precision, speed and skill. In fact, it would probably go down as one of the greatest military feats of WWII.

"Everyone in their pyjamas?" Hogan asked the children in hut two.

"Yes sir," they chorused back, offering a few salutes.

"Everyone's brushed their teeth?"

"Yes sir."

"Washed their faces?"

"Sir, yes sir."

"Good, now climb into bed and go to sleep. I'll see you all in the morning. We've got a big day ahead of us."

There, simple. Now he could finally get some rest. Operation Bedtime was a success.

Of course it could never be that easy.

"Where's he going to sleep?" Newkirk demanded, pointing a finger at Klink.

Hogan groaned. He hadn't quite thought that far into Operation Bedtime. "He'll have to bunk with one of you," Hogan said evenly, bracing himself for the outburst of indignation.

"One of us!"

"Well, look at it this way: whoever shares with him gets to share his nice, big, thick blanket too."

Newkirk seemed to consider that for a second. "All right. I'll share with him." Apparently the idea of being warm for a night trumped Newkirk's immense dislike for Klink. Of course, Hogan wouldn't be surprised if in the morning Klink was knocked out on the ground and Newkirk and the blanket were alone in his bunk. Hogan sighed. That wouldn't be good.

"Forget it. He can sleep on my bottom bunk. Now into bed with all of you."

Newkirk rolled his eyes but climbed up onto his bunk without further complaint.

"Come on, Klink," Hogan sighed. This was going to be a long night. He could only imagine how annoying Klink was when he was sleeping. Knowing Klink, he was probably a bed-wetter as a kid too.

"Can I sleep on your bottom bunk too?" Olsen asked, coming up behind Hogan. "My bunk's too high."

"Well if you're asleep then it won't matter how high up you are," Hogan reasoned. Olsen was not convinced.

"But what if I roll off and fall?"

"You won't roll off," Hogan assured him.

"Please. I don't even mind sharing with Klink."

Hogan could almost feel Olsen's eyes widen and he refused to look down. Drat. Somehow they had caught on to his weakness. Now they'd use it to walk all over him.

"No, Olsen, you just-" And then he looked. Olsen just looked so pathetic with his eyes watering up with tears, his bottom lip quivering slightly. "Oh all right! As long as you don't mind sharing with Klink it's fine by me! Now come on, both of you." Hogan let out a frustrated grunt and marched into him room, Klink and Olsen trailing behind him.

"All right, in you go," Hogan ordered as he motioned the two children to his bunk. They both climbed in obediently. "Good night," Hogan grumbled. Quickly he turned out his lamp and climbed up to his top bunk. He patience was at an end. He just wanted to go to sleep and put this day behind him.

"You're not going to tuck us in?" Olsen asked quietly after a moment of silence.

"No."

"Okay… night." Hogan ignored him. He just needed sleep. Goodness, how did real parents do this day in and day out?

"Sleep tight." Olsen continued. There was another pause. "Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

"Good night, Olsen!"

"Night," Olsen squeaked.

Silence filled the room and Hogan shifted in his bunk to get comfortable. His body had finally relaxed when another voice came from below.

"Hogan?"

"What Klink?" Hogan mumbled in German.

"Aren't you going to tuck us in?"

Hogan groaned and buried his head under his pillow. "No! Now go to sleep!"

"Okay… good night… Don't let the monsters come out and eat you!"

"Don't worry," Hogan grumbled. "Any monsters come out, I have two kids I can use to distract them."

There was finally silence from the bottom bunk and Hogan took a moment to soak in the peace. "Good night," he muttered to the ceiling. He was just about to fall asleep when he heard the door creak open.

Sitting up and squinting in the dark, he saw two little forms in the doorway. "What? Who?"

"We're scared in there," a little voice said. Goldman, Hogan guessed. "There's all these noises. Can we sleep in here?"

"Bottom bunk," Hogan ordered, laying back down.

He heard the two of them patter across the room and felt the bed shake as they jumped into the bottom bunk. Olsen and Klink both muttered their protests but otherwise didn't put up much of a fuss.

"Good night Colonel Hogan," Goldman called.

Oh no, not all this again. "Good night already. Don't worry about bedbugs or monsters."

"I won't… but did you check under the bed for the boogeyman?"

"Yeah, he's not there. Now go to sleep."

Any quiet that followed wasn't to last because the door opened again. "Colonel Hogan?" It was Newkirk.

"You scared too?" Hogan asked, not bothering to look up.

"Me? I'm not scared. Just wondered where everyone else went. Thought I would join 'em. Your bunk must be comfier than ours anyway. You are an officer after all. Move over you lot. Make room, make room!"

Hogan completely gave up on the idea of any peace and rest when the door opened a few more times. Finally, all his men, with the exception of Carter who had been out like a light earlier, were in his room, trying to squeeze themselves onto the bottom bunk.

"Oi! You're squishing me!"

"Get your foot out of my face!"

"Cochon!"

"Your feet are freezing!"

"Colonel Hogan, can some of us come up there with you?"

All right, he had to step in and put an end to this right now. Hogan jumped off his bunk and stood over the children with his arms crossed over his chest and a firm look on his face. "No. Now all of you up and back into your own beds, right now."

None of them moved. "Sorry, Colonel. We didn't mean to fuss," Newkirk finally said. "We'll be good." To prove his point, Newkirk closed his eyes and started to snore.

"Nothing doing. Bed, all of you."

"All right," Goldman pouted. "But can you at least tell us a story first?"

"Yes! A story! Puh-lease, Colonel Hogan?"

He was outnumbered. Fourteen pairs of eyes against little old, weak-willed, sucker of a colonel him. "One story," Hogan conceded. "Then bed! I mean it!"

Of course, Hogan didn't know any stories to tell. Flipping on his lamp, Hogan searched through his bookshelves for something to read to them. He took down a magazine and flipped through it. Nope. They definitely wouldn't appreciate that one. How about Popular Mechanics? How'd he even gotten that anyway? He flipped through it. 'How to wrap a bear for mailing'? Oh yeah, that would come in handy. He shelved it. What else did he have?

The Army Officer's Guide. Now there was some fine reading. Or a weapon's manual. How come that one hadn't been confiscated? Hogan shrugged and pulled it off the shelf. "Let's see." Maybe if he spoke in a very interesting voice, they would buy it. "Field stripping, cleaning and routine maintenance of Garand rifles. Section 22!" he began as he paced in front of the bunk. "Repeated disassembly and assembly causes excessive wear of parts and will eventually reduce the accuracy of the weapon. See figure 57. Oh look, pictures and everything." Hogan crouched down and held the book out for the kids to see. Only Klink and LeBeau bothered to look, both genuinely interested only because they couldn't understand what he was saying. The other children didn't seem pleased.

"What is this!" Kinch demanded.

"This is the worst story I've ever heard," Goldman shouted indignantly.

"Boo!" Newkirk yelled.

"All right, all right." Hogan tossed the book onto his desk. "So that did stink. But I don't know how to tell a good bedtime story."

"Well, tell us about when you were a kid," Olsen suggested.

"Only seems fair," Kinch agreed with a shrug.

Hogan rolled his eyes. How did he get roped into this? "All right, I'll see what I can come up with. But I warn you, I was a very boring child." His men just gave him sceptical looks.

"All right mates, clear out, let Colonel Hogan in." Newkirk shoved a few of his bed mates to the edge of the bed. "Don't look at me like that. Go onto the top bunk." There was a bit of grumbling, but half the children slipped out of the bottom bunk and climbed up top. "There you go Colonel. Plenty of room down here."

"Thanks, Newkirk," Hogan ground out as he looked up at his top bunk. He had a bad feeling he wouldn't be sleeping up there tonight. In fact, he had a feeling that if he really wanted to get some rest, he would have to wait until all the kids were asleep in his room and sneak out into the common room.

Hogan climbed into the bottom bunk and settled in between Klink and Olsen. Newkirk slid up beside Klink and practically pushed him over until the Kommandant was in Hogan's lap. "Ready, sir," Newkirk announced as he curled under Klink's blanket. Klink scowled and pulled it away from him. The two fought for a moment until Hogan grabbed the blanket and laid it across all of them. Then LeBeau settled on top of it, on Hogan's knees. Hogan shifted uncomfortably under him, but didn't have much room as the other children pressed closer. Oh yeah, this was just dandy.

"All right, let's see, a story from when I was a kid, huh?" Leaning his head back against the wall, Hogan looked up at the top bunk, trying to search his memories for a good one. "Well, I remember one time, my brother-"

"I didn't know you had a brother," Kinch interrupted from the top bunk. Hogan craned his neck to the side and found all the children up top peering over the side of the bunk.

"Well I did, okay."

"What's his name?" Olsen asked.

"William. Willie, actually."

Klink shifted in his lap and looked up. "Willie?"

"Not you. My brother. His name was Willie," Hogan explained in German.

"Interesting."

"Yeah, anyway," Hogan continued in English, "so one Christmas me and my brother Willie and our friend Heinie Zimmerman got bicycles for Christmas. It was a really big deal for us. Not many kids had 'em. Of course, you can't ride 'em in five feet of snow- although we tried a few times- so we had to wait for summer to really use them.

"Usually we would spend all summer playing baseball, but that summer we just went all over town on those things. We'd come home real late sometimes and Mom would be worried and Dad would threaten to hide the front wheels if we worried her like that again.

"Anyway," Hogan continued, "so one day we rode to this new area of town. They were going to build houses there or something. Anyway, we get there and there's this big pile of explosives. Willie wanted to go but Heinie picked up a rock and threw it at the pile." Beside him, Newkirk and Olsen tensed. "Don't worry, nothing happened. So Henie threw another rock. Then I did. Nothing. Not a thing. So we got a little closer. And Heinie started poking at the pile with a stick. Still nothing. Must've been duds, we figured. But we all decided to see if we could get it to blow. Eventually we were riding our bicycles over the pile. Still nothing.

"Finally we got bored of it. We really tried everything to get it to blow. So we get on our bikes to go and just as we're leaving, I scoop up and rock and just toss it over my shoulder. All of a sudden- BOOM!"

All the children jumped and Klink and LeBeau let out cries of surprise. "Did it go off? Did you die?" Olsen asked, his voice filled with worry.

"No, we were fine. But it did go off."

"How are you so lucky?" Kinch cried from above. "You should've been blown to bits long before that."

Hogan shrugged. "Fate was on my side, I guess. Anyway, so we high-tailed it out of there. Then Willie said we ought to find a policeman or something before anyone else went there and got hurt. So we finally found Officer O'Malley and told him about what we had found. We took him to the place and when we got there, there were a bunch of dumb kids throwing rocks at another pile!

"Well Officer O'Malley went down there, grabbed them by their ears, chewed them out and told them that he would make sure their mothers found out about how stupid they were. Came back to us and asked us if we had done anything like that. 'No sir,' we said. So he took us home, told our Ma's we were heroes and exemplarily youth and all that. And we lived happily ever after. The end."

"That was a pretty good story," Newkirk yawned. "But the ending could use a little work."

"Tell us another one," Olsen murmured in a sleepy voice.

"Don't have anymore," Hogan shrugged.

"That was your whole childhood?" Kinch asked incredulously.

"Pretty much."

"Then tell us a real story. You must know one or two."

Hogan sighed. It was going to be a long night. "Ever heard about Androcles and the lion?"


	13. The Return of General Kinchmeyer

By some miracle, Hogan slept through the various kicks to the side and tiny elbows to the face. He only woke up when he felt someone shaking him and calling his name in a harsh whisper. When he finally pried his eyes open, he was on the very edge of the bed, with just a sliver of blanket covering him.

"Colonel? Colonel, wake up." Hogan glanced at the hand on his shoulder and followed it up to its owners face.

Relief flooded over him. "Kinch!" Kneeling next to him was a full-grown, normal-sized, adult Kinch.

Kinch winced as Hogan's outburst caused a few of the boys to whine in their sleep. Both men waited with bated breath until the boys settled back into sleep.

Kinch held a finger to his lips and motioned for Hogan to follow him into the common room. Hogan nodded and tried to slip out of bed, but found himself captive to several sets of hands. Olsen was practically glued to one leg. Klink was curled up in a ball near his shoulders, with the back of Hogan's shirt clenched in his tiny hands.

"All right, hold on. Just-" Kinch pried Olsen off- "Give me-" Now, carefully, he worked Hogan free from Klink's grasp- "One second. There. Quick."

Hogan quickly rolled out of bed, landing on his hands and knees. Almost instantly his unoccupied space was filled by a tangle of little bodies.

Grabbing Kinch's offered hand, Hogan pulled himself up and silently followed the Sergeant in the common room. Once there, Hogan let out a little whoop and shook Kinch's shoulder. "Kinch, you're a beautiful sight! I never thought I'd be so happy to wake up to a mustache in all my life!"

Kinch chuckled. "Aw schucks, Colonel."

"What time is it? When did you get back to normal?"

"About 0400," Kinch replied, and Hogan checked his watch to confirm. "I woke up like this a little while ago. Couldn't for the life of me figure out what I was doing on your top bunk, surrounded by a bunch of kids, and dressed in- well not much. Took me a while to clear my head, but I think I remember enough to make sense of it."

Hogan sighed in relief. He knew he had made the right choice in choosing Kinch to test the cure. He wasn't sure any of the other men would have handled the situation with the same stoic grace.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "Carter."

"I tried waking him, Colonel," Kinch explained as he followed Hogan to Carter's bunk, "but he's out like a light."

Sure enough, Carter was fast asleep, snoring quietly. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that Carter was also an adult. Bits of shredded clothing clung to his uncovered shoulders.

"Let him sleep," Hogan said, batting the air dismissively. "Come on. We've got work to do." Hogan smacked Kinch's bunk to open the trap door, and together the two men clambered the ladder to the tunnel. "Get London on the horn."

"Right." Kinch sat at his radio. "Hey, who's been mucking about with this?"

"You were."

"Hmmm?" Kinch rubbed his temple and shook his head a little. "Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry, Colonel. Everything's a little hazy. It's all kind of like a dream you know you had, but you can't remember the details."

"It's probably better that way. I wish I could forget this whole thing as easily." In fact, Hogan wasn't entirely convinced that this wasn't all just a dream. Maybe, at this moment, he was actually asleep. Maybe this whole thing was a fever dream. Maybe he was trapped in the tunnels, unconscious with an ever-dwindling supply of oxygen.

Hogan pinched himself. Felt real enough.

"Is it bad?" Hogan asked, turning his attention back to the very real problem at hand.

"Just give me a minute, Colonel. Looks like my younger self had enough sense to stop before he did too much damage." Kinch fiddled with the wire. "There we go. And now- Papa Bear to Mama Bear. Come in Mama Bear."

"This is Mama Bear. Go ahead Papa Bear," came the prompt reply.

Hogan grabbed the handset. "Urgent. Priority one. Do not delay. Request immediate completion."

"I say!" Mama Bear cried anxiously. "Good heavens, what's the matter? Are you chaps all right."

Hogan debated whether he should divulge their situation, but decided against it for now. He didn't want London to think he was off his rocker- no more so than usual, anyway. "We will be. We need an immediate delivery of jellybeans."

There was a pause and Hogan could almost feel the incredulity. "J-Jellybeans, Papa Bear."

"That's right. Just the black ones. Fifty pounds."

"I'm sorry, Papa Bear, let me get this straight. You need an immediate delivery of fifty pounds of black jellybeans?"

"Emphasis on immediate," Hogan confirmed.

"Right-o, Papa Bear," Mama Bear replied, though she didn't sound too sure.

"Good. When can you get it to us?"

"Fifty pounds of black jellybeans? Well I-"

"Come on, Mama Bear, it's important."

Mama Bear let out a sigh. "We'll make the drop at 1900 hours. Drop point Romeo. Will that do, Papa Bear?"

"Fine, just fine. We'll be waiting for it."

"Jolly good. Mama Bear out."

Kinch shook his head and let out a little chuckle as he took the handset from Hogan. "You ever wonder what Mama Bear must be thinking every time we need something like this?"

"Nah," Hogan said, batting the question away with a flick of his hand. He checked his watch and wrinkled his nose. "Too early to wake up Burkhalter, huh."

"Depends on who's calling. It's never too early to get a call from SS General Kinchmeyer," Kinch said with a sly grin and a pop of his eyebrow. "But wait." Kinch looked confused for a moment. "Is it just me, or were we planning on something with lemons?"

Hogan groaned. He couldn't believe he had seriously considered such a ridiculous and dangerous plan. Of course, last night he had been beyond desperate.

"It was a last resort. But now that General Kinchmeyer is back to his old self, we can go with the original plan." Hogan rummaged through some storage cabinets. A moment later he pulled out a map and spread it out on Kinch's desk. "Where's the furthest camp we can send him to?"

Kinch studied the map for a moment. "There. I think he oversees Stalag 6 here. We send him there, and he won't have time to get back here until at least tomorrow."

"Hmm, we might need more time than that." Hogan grabbed his elbows and rocked on his heel. An idea popped into his head and he snapped his fingers. "I say he's going to be there for quite a while." He grabbed a notepad and started scribbling out Kinch's script. When he was finished, he handed it to Kinch, who looked it over and grinned.

"Beautiful, Colonel." Kinch went about setting up his phone wires and soon was waiting for his call to be answered.

"This is General Kinchmeyer," he said in a sinister voice. "SS General Kinchmeyer. I want to speak with General Burkhalter." There was a pause while the person on the other line probably protested. Kinch leaned forward in his seat and smacked the table. "I do not care what time it is. Wake the General. Or perhaps you would prefer it if I came there personally." His tone made it abundantly clear that no one wanted that to happen. "Very good. Be quick."

Kinch leaned back in his seat and covered the phone with his hand. "Hey Colonel, you think there's a chance General Kinchmeyer will ever appear in the flesh?" Hogan just snorted in amusement. "No, huh? Well, maybe the next war."

They waited in silence for a few minutes until Burkhalter came on the line. "General Burkhalter. Oh no, I did not mind waiting." Kinch's tone very much implied the opposite. "I have received alarming reports about one of your prison camps, Burkhalter. Yes. Stalag 6. Fraud. Embezzlement. We believe funds from the camp is being funneled to the underground. Yes, Stalag 6, I am sure. Why? Is there more than one of your camps involved in such activities?" Kinch sat back a listened for a moment.

"General, there are many strange things in your record, but I want to believe you have no connection to these damning reports. May I strongly suggest, my dear General, that you go to Stalag 6 yourself and examine every piece of paper, ever nook and cranny, until the truth is discovered. I know you will come to the right conclusion. Very good, General. I will be very, very interested to hear from you. You have two days." And with that, Kinch slammed the phone onto its cradle.

Hogan clapped. "Excellent performance, Kinch my boy. Riveting."

"Thanks. I'll be here the rest of the war."

"Come on, let's go." Hogan beckoned Kinch to follow.

Carter was awake when they climbed back up into the barracks. Sitting on the edge of his bunk, the Sergeant looked very confused as he pulled his ripped shirt off.

"You all right, Carter?" Kinch asked.

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, I think I am. Boy, I tell you I had the strangest dream. And what happ- wait a second." Carter screwed his face up tightly. "It wasn't a dream, was it?"

"'Fraid not," Hogan replied.

"Oh boy," Carter groaned. "What a lulu."

"You're telling me!"

"But hey, I'm back to normal. And Kinch too. Anyone else?"

Hogan shook his head. "We just called London to drop some jellybeans."

"Jellybeans, sir?" Carter repeated incredulously.

"Don't look at me- you were the one to make the discovery."

Carter just raised a skeptical eyebrow and then gave himself a hard pinch. "Well, I've gotta say Colonel, I don't know what to think. This defies everything I know about chemistry and science. Not that I'm an expert or anything, but I've read that Guide to Pharmacy a thousand times over and there's nothing, I mean nothing about any of this."

"I don't know what to tell you, Carter," Hogan said with a shrug. "Except that fate has a funny sense of humour."


	14. Five Minute Destruction

Mercifully, all the children stayed asleep until Schultz came in at 0600 for roll call. But, once they all woke, mayhem quickly ensued. Their minds had finally caught up with their bodies.

Needless to say, roll call was cancelled as Schultz, Kinch, Hogan and Carter- and no doubt the barracks chiefs elsewhere in camp- did their best to calm the frightened and confused children. There was no use explaining what had really happened and so the lie the adults agreed on was that the children's parents had dropped them off at an overnight camping retreat.

It had taken a bit, but eventually the boys accepted the premise without much argument. He wasn't sure if it was because they were incredibly gullible, or simply resilient enough to accept their situation and make the best of it.

"I've never been camping," Newkirk said thoughtfully. "What do we do?"

Goldman jumped up in excitement. "Oh! We can hunt for frogs!"

"Blimey, really? I've never seen a real live frog before! Are they hard to get?"

"Never seen a frog?!" Goldman was appalled.

"Hey, we can play cops and robbers!" Olsen suggested.

"And make Graham cracker sandwiches!" another boy, young Private Jensen cheered.

"Blimey, what's that?" Newkirk asked, intrigued.

"Graham cracker, chocolate, and marshmallows," Jensen explained. "You put the marshmallow on a stick, and you hold it over a fire so it gets hot, and then you put them all together and eat it!"

Newkirk whirled around and looked up at Hogan, clapping his chubby little hands together. "I want to do that!"

"Me too!" came a chorus of cheers.

Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose then looked heavenwards. Well, he supposed, it was better this than having them cry for their mothers.

"All right, hold it. Now it's too cold outside for any of that, so we're going to have to stay inside." Really he couldn't run the risk of any of the boys getting out of camp. Further, he wasn't sure how they would react to barbed wire fence, armed guards, and guard dogs.

There was a chorus of boos.

"All right, all right, pipe down. Just a minute." Hogan disappeared into his office and came back a moment later with a pad of paper and several pencils. "Here. Draw your parents a picture."

There was some grumbling, but most of the children crowded around the table and got to work.

"Colonel Hogan, Colonel Hogan."

"What is it Schultz?"

"Colonel Hogan, Kommandant Klink is demanding he be taken home at once!"

Hogan groaned and crouched down in front of Klink. "What's wrong there, Willie?"

Little Klink grunted and stamped his foot. Hogan hid a smile- some things never changed. "I want to go home!" Klink demanded. "Mama would never let me go camping! And I can't understand anyone!"

"Oh come on, there's nothing stopping you from making some friends. Go ahead and draw something."

Klink shied away. "I- I don't think-" he stopped and looked at the other boys warily.

"Hold it-" Hogan turned to the other children. "Anyone here speak German?"

Olsen's eager hand shot up. "Oh! I do!"

"Me too," offered Goldman.

"German?!" cried a few alarmed voices.

"Germans are the bad guys!"

"They're German?"

Hogan winced. He hadn't thought that many of his men would have been young boys during the first war, when anti-German hysteria had reached fever pitch. Thinking back, he remembered many of families he knew changing their names in order to Americanized and avoid persecution. In particular, he recalled his own mother's frustration in trying to prove her loyalty and patriotism.

A brawl broke out as Newkirk tackled Goldman off the bench and onto the floor. Someone else tackled Olsen and soon several boys were on the ground fighting it out.

"Hey, hold it!" Hogan reached through the tangle of bodies and grabbed Olsen's hand, pulling him up and out of the fray. Kinch jumped in to save Goldman. Carter and Schultz both grabbed an aggressor, one under each arm.

"Hey!"

"He's a Hun!"

"All right pipe down!" Hogan ordered in the most commanding voice possible. All eyes turned to him.

"Now hear this, all of you. I don't care where you're from or what language you speak, there'll be no more fighting. You don't have to _like_ each other but you will get along. Is that understood?"

A wave of murmuring swept across the boys but since none of them openly protested, he figured his point was received and accepted. He wasn't sure if it was his authoritative voice, or some vestiges of their adult minds that reminded them that he was in charge, but either way, he would take it.

The adults tentatively set the children down. It was a good sign when no one made a move to continue their fisticuffs.

Behind him he heard Schultz sniffling. "That was beautiful, Colonel Hogan."

"Real League of Nations stuff," Kinch added dryly.

"But, you know, even though you said they didn't have to get along, they really ought to apologize. I mean it's only right," Carter pointed out.

Hogan gave Newkirk a pointed look. "Well, what do you say, Newkirk—Er, Peter?"

Newkirk grimaced and folded his arms over his chest. Then something seemed to change his mind because he suddenly looked contrite and downcast. "Well, all right." He dropped his head and examined his shoes before casting his eyes up at Goldman. "'m sorry. What do you say, mates?"

A few more apologies echoed his.

Goldman thought for a moment. "S'okay."

"Yeah. It's okay," Olsen repeated.

Newkirk looked pleased. "Will you help me find a frog still?"

"Sure!"

"Nope. We're staying inside," Hogan said, moving to block the door.

Newkirk pouted, but instead of breaking his newfound truce, he grabbed Goldman's hand and led him away to another part of the room. Hogan had a funny feeling that _he_ was now the bad guy.

"All right, Olsen, come here." He set Olsen across from Klink. "Olsen—Rick, this is Willie. You think you can look after him?"

"I don't need-" Klink started to protest.

But Olsen just grinned and grabbed Klink's hand. "Come on!" Klink tried to dig his heels in but Olsen managed to pull him along anyway.

Kinch sidled up to Hogan. "Wouldn't it be fine if everyone could put aside their difference so easy?"

"Boy, wouldn't it," Carter agreed. "Hey, you think if kids were running the world there'd be no wars?"

At that, Schultz just laughed. "Or there would be a war every other minute. I have children and I know that one minute they can be angels, and the next, they are devils."

As if to prove his point, two boys began squabbling over pencils. Hogan debated breaking them up, but figured unless it turned violent, they could work through it on their own. Besides, he wasn't sure he had the energy or patience to put out every fire—if he even needed to.

"Don't worry, Colonel Hogan," Schultz assured him as if reading his mind, "being a father is easy!"

"Yeah? How about being a mother?" Until this debacle was over, Hogan might have to do both jobs.

"Oh, well… "

Suddenly, the loud bang of a gun ripped through the barracks. Hogan's heart stopped and all eyes went to his office.

"What, what, what was that?" Schultz cried.

"Kinch!" Hogan snapped his fingers as he raced to his office. Throwing the door open, he found that his room was an absolute disaster room. In the corner, Olsen and Klink were staring dumbfounded at a gun that lay on the floor, a bullet hole smoldering beside it.

"What happened?" Hogan cried, as he grabbed the gun. Beside him, Kinch was checking the boys over for injuries.

"We wanted to play cops and robbers!" Olsen explained. "Boy is that real?"

"Yes!" How had they even found it? Trained guards and Gestapo agents hadn't been able to find it. "What's wrong with you?"

"Hey, this lady's naked!" Hogan looked over his shoulder to see two boys on his bunk, flipping through a magazine.

"Now hold it-"

"Hey look, a secret compartment!"

"Don't touch-"

"Ooops! I think I broke it!"

Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose. It was going to be a long day.


	15. The World's Greatest Sucker

1900 hours couldn't come soon enough.

At some point, Hogan had given up on keeping the boys indoors. It was that, or risk them destroying the barracks and everything in it. To distract them from their less than ideal accommodations, Hogan had ordered a massive game of soccer. With forty little boys, it was nothing short of chaos. But they seemed to enjoy it- if their squealing and cheering were anything to go by.

The pandemonium made it easy for Hogan and Kinch to slip away. Now they were waiting in the bushes near the drop zone.

Right on time, they heard a plane overhead. A few minutes later, it had dropped its package and turned to head home. The two men bolted from their hiding spot as the package touched down, it's parachute draping gracefully over it.

Kinch pushed the parachute aside and cracked open the crate with a crowbar. It was full of brown paper sacs, tied up with string. Quickly, the two men loaded up their packs. Then, after destroying the crate and grabbing the chute, they hurried back to camp.

They were almost through the tunnels when they heard voices coming from the radio room. Little voices.

Kinch looked alarm and fell into such a fast sprint that Hogan could barely keep up. He heard Kinch curse loudly before he made it there. Great. Now what?

When the radio room came into view, he saw Newkirk and Goldman at the desk, surrounded by wires and pieces of the radio. They both looked scared, watching Kinch with wide eyes. Kinch was standing ram rod straight, his hand balled into fists. Needless to say, if looks could kill, both boys would be dead.

Kinch was never one to overreact, so whatever damage the boys had done, it must've been bad.

"Easy, Kinch," Hogan said, grabbing the sergeants shoulder. Hogan fixed the boys with a dangerous glare and he knew they knew; they were in deep trouble.

"How did you get down here, and what are you doing?" Hogan demanded calmly but forcefully.

Newkirk and Goldman exchanged looks. Newkirk was the first to speak. "It was his idea!"

"No! It was his!"

"No, I-"

"I didn't ask whose idea it was," Hogan interrupted.

The two boys shared another look. "We followed you," Goldman finally confessed. "We saw you go under the bed, and we opened it too but then you were gone and-"

"And we saw this!" Newkirk opened his arms to present the radio.

"And I don't suppose you closed the tunnel when you got down?"

"Uummm."

Hogan took that as a no. He went over to the ladder and looked up and, sure enough, could see right up to the barracks. It was a miracle the tunnels weren't crawling with a guards. "All right, so you followed us. Why did you decide to destroy the radio?"

"Blimey, what's a radio?" Newkirk asked.

Goldman lit up. "Oh! I saw a radio once! In the drugstore! It's a box that talks! But it was not as big as this one!"

"A box that talks?" Newkirk marvelled. "What does it say?"

"It says you two are in trouble. Now get back upstairs and wait in my office. And don't touch anything."

Both boys nodded and obediently scurried up the ladder. Hogan closed the trap behind them.

"Is it bad, Kinch?"

"Well it's not good. We might have to get new parts."

"Great. Just great. How the hell can two little boys be so destructive? If we turned them on the Germans, the war would be over by the end of the week!"

"No arguments here. But hopefully by tomorrow we won't need to worry about it," Kinch said, patting his backpack.

"Yeah, let's hope you're right. Let's go."

When they got back to the barracks, Hogan waved Kinch towards the door. "Deliver the 'medicine' to the barracks chiefs- a pound to each boy."

"Right." Kinch grabbed his bag tightly and hurried out the door.

Taking a deep breath, Hogan straightened himself up before heading into his office. He found Newkirk and Goldman sitting on the edge of his lower bunk, cheeks wet and eyes glistening. Upon his arrival, Newkirk hastily wiped his nose on his sleeve and coughed to cover a sob. Goldman sniffed and wiped his eyes.

Hogan's heart melted. He was use to meting out discipline and punishments, but only to grown men. He'd never been in this position before and the two boys were just so pathetic. He felt like a giant heel.

Hogan cleared his throat and tried not to show any emotion. He needed to be strong. If he didn't assert his authority, he'd have forty boys walking all over him.

"You boys are in trouble." Both boys nodded. "You broke something that didn't belong to you." More nods. "And Sergeant Kinchloe is very upset." He paused for dramatic effect. "Frankly, I'm disappointed in you."

That hit the target. Goldman cracked. "We're sorry! Please don't paddle us!"

"We'll be as Robin Hood as a hot cross bun!"

Hogan fixed them with the evil eye. "No going downstairs."

"We promise."

"You'll apologize to Sergeant Kinchloe."

"Yes."

Hogan paused, letting them sweat a bit more. "All right. Keep your noses clean, and I'll let you off with a warning. Dismissed."

Immediately, the boys furiously wiped their noses before scurrying past Hogan. Well, that was easy. Hogan gave himself a mental pat on the back. This whole thing wasn't too-

Out in the common room, he heard Newkirk and Goldman laughing.

Well, that could only mean one thing: either they bounced back fast, or they had played him for the world's greatest sucker.

* * *

In his time as commanding officer, Hogan had asked for many things. Some ridiculous, more dangerous, very few reasonable. From blowing up trains, to harbouring chimpanzees, to dressing in drag, his men always followed his lead, even if there was some grumbling along the way. But never before in his career had he heard such belly aching, such outright disrespect, nor seen such tantrums as he had trying to get the boys to take their "medicine".

It took every trick in his arsenal:

Persuasion.

Nothing.

Threats.

Outright laughter.

Begging. Pleading.

No, and no.

Finally, bribery.

And that was the trick.

Newkirk, the leader of the revolt was finally won over with the promise of a shiny coin. And once he fell, the others followed suit.

All expect Klink.

Hogan stood over the one-time Kommandant of Stalag 13, hand on his hips and the most disapproving look on his face. "Come on Kl- Willie, they're vitamins."

"You said it was candy," Klink countered. "Father won't let me eat candy."

"I only told you it was candy because I didn't think you would eat it otherwise."

Klink looked downcast. "You lied to me?"

"Well, I-" Dammit! _He_ was supposed to be guilting Klink, not the other way around. "Only a little." Hogan knelt down to his level. "Look, if it were candy, it would taste good, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose," Klink replied thoughtfully.

"Well, look around. Do you see anyone here that thinks it tastes good?" He pointed over to Newkirk, who was acting out a dramatic death scene, clutching at his throat. Hogan took a second to roll his eyes and shake his head slightly before turning back to Klink. "See?"

Klink looked from Newkirk to his bag of jellybeans, then back up at Hogan, eyes full of worry. "Must I eat all of it?"

"Every last one. Unless of course you want to get Polaris Extremis."

"Polaris Extremis?" Klink repeated, horrified. "What's that?"

"Oh, it's a terrible, terrible condition. And this," Hogan said, grabbing a jellybean, "is the only cure." He popped the candy into his mouth.

Klink eyed the bag once more before obediently eating a few. "Yech." But, despite his protest, he ate a few more.

"That's a good boy." Hogan rose to his feet and patted Klink's head.

"I bloody well done it mate!" Newkirk announced loudly. "Right poison it was too! Now, where's me bread and honey?"

"Kinch, pay the man," Hogan ordered.

"Oh sure," Kinch sniffed, pulling out his footlocker.

"I'll send to London for reimbursement."

Kinch rolled his eyes, but found a sock full of coins and began handing them out to the boys who were done.

"It's eight o'clock, Colonel," Carter said, checking his watch. "You think we ought to put the boys to bed?"

Hogan checked his own watch. "Yeah, better to get this day over with sooner rather than later. Let's get them into their normal clothes though- give them some room to grow, huh."

"Sure thing, Colonel. I guess we all better sleep in our own beds tonight too."

"It's against the Geneva Conference to have fifteen guys in one bunk. Not to mention the gossip it would start." Hogan looked down at Klink who had finished his candy. "You done? Good. Time for bed. I'll get Sergeant Schultz to take you to your quarters."

"My quarters?" Klink repeated. "Not here? But I thought- Jerrik* said-"

"Oh! I told him we would tell ghost stories!" Olsen said, bouncing up and throwing his arm over Klink's shoulder.

Hogan stifled a groan. The last thing he needed was for Klink and Olsen to get chummy. Part of Olsen's role as outside man was to blend in with the Stalag 13 crowd so his absence wouldn't be noticed. He only hoped that when this whole thing was over, Klink would forget his blossoming friendship.

"Yes, ghost stories. May I stay? Please?" Hogan wasn't sure how it was possible, but Klink's eyes got bigger and bluer as he looked up, pleading with him. Dammit!

"All right. One story," Hogan relented. Since when had he become such a pushover?

It turned out that children were horrible story-tellers. It wasn't for lack of imagination, but a five-year-old simply couldn't string together a cohesive narrative, especially not an engaging or suspenseful one.

Of course, that didn't stop them from being expert critics. When Hogan took over the story in an attempt to save his own sanity, he was met with nothing but abuse from the peanut gallery. They were a little kinder to Carter, but it wasn't until Kinch, with his smooth, deep voice, started telling a story that they all settled in, hanging on every word. When he was done, half he boys were wide-eyed and horrified, and the other half were asleep.

Klink fell into the latter group. Hogan wrinkled his nose. "Carter, Kinch, you take care of the boys in here. I'll drop Klink off and be back in five." Hogan carefully wrapped Klink in a blanket and put held him up to his chest. He tried to ignore the little sigh Klink made as he cuddled into him. Maybe he should call Schultz.

Nixing the idea, Hogan headed out, and soon, he was laying Klink down in his bed. Now, if he could just sneak away without-

"Herr Hogan?" Hogan winced and stopped mid-step.

"Yes?" He asked tentatively.

"Herr Hogan, do you, do you..." Klink trailed off and Hogan turned to see the boy looking down at his hands.

Hogan debated making a hasty exit, but found himself sitting on the edge of Klink's bed, and placing a hand on Klink's knee. "What is it, Willie?"

Klink seemed uncomfortable, but finally looked up, as pathetic as ever, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Do you think Mama sent me to camp because... because she didn't want me there in case..."

"In case what?" Hogan had a feeling he was going to regret the answer.

"Oh Herr Hogan," Klink wailed, burying his face into his hands, and sobbing uncontrollably.

Hogan squirmed. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do in his situation, so he settled for patting Klink's knee. Finally, Klink got enough control over himself to quiet his sobs to a series of hiccups. Hogan fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to the boy. Klink wiped his face and blew his nose, and offered the handkerchief back, but Hogan held up a hand to refuse. He could keep it.

"Oh Herr Hogan, my mama is so sick."

Aw dammit.

He did not need to feel sorry for Klink. Hogan balled a fist and forcefully reminded himself that there were hundred of kids out there with a sob story. Hell, there were a dozen kids within this camp with a sick mother, a lame sister, a father at war. But none of those boys were right there in front of him, with impossibly big eyes, looking to _him_ for comfort.

"Hey now, there's no need for tears. I'm sure everything is all right." The truth was, he had no idea if it all turned out well. It occurred to him that he knew very little about Klink. But then again, why would he know any more than was necessary to keep the pompous Kommandant alive.

"My father doesn't like me," Klink continued. "He thinks I am... that I am good for nothing."

"Well, fathers can be tough, sometimes. But I'm sure he loves you." Klink didn't look convinced. Hogan let out a sigh. "Look Kli- Willie, I'm not sure what's going to happen. I don't know if your ma will be okay, I don't know what your father really thinks of you. But I _do_ know that whatever happens, you get to decide what happens to you. _You've_ gotta know you're worth something.

"When the going gets tough, you gotta dig in your heels. And you know what, life's going to knock you down anyway. And then you get up, and plant one foot down, and then the other, and you laugh at the next blow coming your way. And you just keep plodding along because the moment you think that next blow is stronger than you- whether it is or not- that's when you're finished."

Hogan wasn't sure if any of that made sense; he didn't think that fatherly wisdom could be manufactured out of thin air. He cast an eye over to Klink, who was looking at him with a mixture of awe and confusion. Hogan exhaled heavily and shrugged. "Listen, kid, the point is- the point is, it's time for bed," he said, looking at his watch. "Everything looks brighter in the morning."

Klink looked thoughtful. "Do _you_ think I'm worth something."

Hogan definitely didn't want to answer that. He knew who and what Klink would become, and it wasn't something even resembling admirable. Maybe, maybe if Klink stayed a child and had a chance to do things over, he could turn out differently. But that wasn't going to happen. Hogan couldn't afford to lose Klink as Kommandant. Tomorrow little Willie, full of potential, would go back to being set in stone Kommandant Klink.

"What did I say?" Hogan said.

"It only matters what _I_ think. But what if I don't?"

"Well, it's never too late to become the person you want to be. Just pick something you want to do better." He could see Klink was still confused. "Start small. Read something. Reading is a good way to build character."

"Well I- all right. What should I read?"

Hogan looked up at the ceiling. "Another thing you've got to learn is to make decisions. Be brave. You may make the wrong decision, but learn from it and move on. So, tomorrow, pick a book. Any book. And read it."

"I can do that. I saw a book called 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea at the library," Klink said as he snuggled down into his blankets. "Maybe I will read that." He let out a giant yawn and turned on his side. "Good night."

"Good night." Hogan had nearly escaped when Klink's little voice stopped him.

"You're so nice to me, Herr Hogan. Thank-you."

Dammit! Why did he have to go and say something like that?

Hogan gulped. "Anytime, kid." And with that, he practically ran out of the room.

* * *

Jerrik (Yeh-Rik) "Rick" Olsen. The poor guy gets a new name with every author.


	16. A Not-So Accidental Accident

Hogan awoke the next morning to the sound of cheering in the common room. Relief washed over him. That could only mean one thing- the boys were back to normal.

A knock at the door preceded Carter's head poking into his room. "Colonel? Oh, you're awake, good. Hey, good news, everyone is back to normal. At least in our barracks. Haven't heard anything from the others. Want me to go check?"

"Go," Hogan ordered, not only because it was a good idea, but also because it was too early to listen to Carter ramble. Carter nodded and ducked out.

"Well, I've gotta say, you men are a sight for sore eyes," Hogan announced as he stepped into the common room.

"Colonel!" his men greeted cheerfully.

"Looks like those jellybeans worked," Kinch remarked.

"Cor, but they tasted bloody awful," Newkirk grumbled.

"So you told me," Hogan said wryly. "And told me. And told me."

Newkirk ducked his head sheepishly. "I hope I wasn't too much of a pain, Colonel."

"No more so than usual."

"Colonel?" Olsen piped up, looking concerned. "Everything is a little hazy, but… am I just imagining it, or were Klink and I… _friends_?"

The others recoiled in horror, but Hogan just clapped Olsen on the shoulder. "Olsen, you only did what I ordered you to do. As far as I'm concerned, Willie wasn't the enemy." He fixed Olsen with a pointed glare. "But if you start chumming up to Klink, you and I are going to have words." Olsen just shuddered.

At that moment, the door to the barracks opened and Schultz marched in. "Colonel Hogan," he said by way of greeting, "I am pleased to report that Kommandant Klink is back to his old self, and that he has ordered roll call. With that said: ROLL CALL, everybody raus, raus, out of the barracks."

Everyone complained, but did as ordered and fell out of the barracks into their formation. Carter came jogging up, giving Hogan a thumbs up before taking his place in line. A moment later, Klink, back to his former glory, came marching out of his office, riding crop firmly tucked under his arm. He took a moment to survey the camp.

Schultz fired off a salute. "Herr Kommandant, all prisoners are not only present and accounted for, but are all the correct age and size."

Klink returned the salute, then turned his attention to the prisoners. "Prisoners of Stalag 13, it is good to see that everyone is back to normal." A cheer went up until Klink waved it to stop. "And now that I am also back to normal, I must warn you that my iron will has also returned. In fact, it is stronger than ever. Any attempt to escape will be met with severe punishment! DIIIIIIISMISSED!"

As the men dispersed, Klink marched up to Hogan. "Hogan, I want to see you in my office."

"Lead on, MacDuff. Sir."

Klink turned on his heel and marched off, Hogan following close behind. When they entered Klink's office, Klink opened his cigar box and offered it to Hogan. A little surprised at the generosity, Hogan took one.

"Hogan, I want to thank you," Klink said. "It would have been very easy for your men to escape during this whole incident, but I am glad to see you kept them in line."

"Are you kidding, sir? There were forty kids running around. Even if my men wanted to escape, we needed every hand on deck."

"Be that as it may, Stalag 13's perfect record is still intact. And since I was incapacitated, and I certainly can't credit that dummkopf Schultz, I can only thank you for that."

"Well sir, I accept your gratitude."

"Now, I have something serious to discuss with you," Klink said as he made his way to the other side of his desk. Once there, he spun around and slapped the desk before pointing an accusatory finger at Hogan. "Is it just my imagination, or did I find a gun in your quarters?"

"A gun, sir?" Hogan asked, surprised. "Now where would I get a gun?"

Klink flapped his arms. "I don't know. It's impossible. But I seem to recall… Of course, I can't be sure…"

"Kommandant, if I had a gun, don't you think I would have used it by now to escape? I mean, this isn't exactly a spa, is it?"

Klink looked thoughtful. "Yes, I suppose that's true. To be honest, Hogan, I'm not sure I can trust anything I thought happened during the incident."

"I'm glad I could put your mind at ease." The last thing he needed was for Klink to go tearing his quarters apart. Granted, he had hid the gun again, somewhere not even a group of nosy, destructive boys could find, but there was no sense in taking chances.

"There is another matter, Hogan. About the water."

"What about it?" Hogan asked tentatively, not sure he would like where Klink was going.

"My men have informed me that the spring has dried up, but that some of the water was collected. I want all the water your men may have collected to be gathered. I am sending it off to Berlin."

"Berlin? Why? Don't you think Hitler throws enough tantrums as it is? Can you imagine what he'd be like if-"

"Hogan!" Klink interrupted with a stamp of his foot. "I am not sending it to him. Not yet. But there are scientists in Berlin who can analyze it. Perhaps they can experiment with it until they have found the perfect amount to keep everyone in their prime. Can you imagine it, Hogan? Everyone healthy and young forever?"

"Can _you_ imagine it?" Hogan asked, horrified at the idea. The very thought of those monsters in Berlin achieving immortality was unthinkable. He had been so pre-occupied with making sure the camp didn't burn down, that he hadn't even considered the possibility of the water falling into Nazi hands.

"What do you mean, Hogan?"

"All those madmen in Berlin with immortality? Ruling forever?"

"And what's wrong with that?"

Hogan glared at Klink. "What's wrong with that? Are you blind? Do you even look at what's happening outside of Stalag 13? Is this the kind of world you would want Little Willie to grow up in?!"

Klink stamped his foot. "Enough of this, Hogan! I don't need a lecture from you- not last night, not today! You will have your men gather the water and turn it over to the guards immediately. It will be loaded into a truck and sent to Berlin within the hour!"

Hogan scowled and marched out of the office. He cursed himself as he made his way back to the barracks. He should've destroyed that water the moment he knew it really did restore youth. Of course the Nazis would want it. Even if they couldn't perfect the measurements, it would certainly cause havoc amongst the allies if used against them.

"Kinch," Hogan barked as he threw open the door. All the men in the barracks perked up.

"Colonel?"

"Klink wants us to gather any of that water we have and load it into a truck."

"Gosh, Colonel, we're not actually going to turn it over to them, are we?" Carter asked.

"No. Just fill some buckets with plain water."

"But what about the water the Bosch already have?" LeBeau asked. "We cannot let them keep it! Oh why didn't we destroy it the very first day?"

"Don't worry, LeBeau my boy, we'll get to it. As soon as we turn that water over, we'll head out the emergency tunnel and meet the truck on the road and shoot it up."

"Right, Colonel. Don't worry, we'll take care of it."

"Good. The last thing we need is for this thousand year Reich to last for eternity!"

* * *

Once they had turned over all their water, Hogan and his men scurried down into the tunnels. It didn't take long for them to get into their black gear and arm themselves.

"All right, listen up. We've gotta take that truck out. If we have to sacrifice a few guards to keep it from falling into enemy hands, then that's what we'll do."

"But what if Schultz is on the truck?"

"We can't let it get to Berlin," Hogan repeated. "Understood." His men nodded. "Okay let's-"

"Colonel!"

All eyes looked down the passage to see Olsen running up. "Colonel," he repeated, "you better come quick!"

Hogan arched an eyebrow. "Trouble?"

Olsen hesitated, as if he was unsure how to answer. "Well, it's… something."

Curious, Hogan motioned for his men to stay put as he followed Olsen, taking a moment to change back into his uniform before they went back up. Olsen led him to the barracks door and opened it so Hogan could look out into the compound. In front of Klink's office was the truck, but there was something wrong. A few guards were gathered around it, talking excitedly. And there was water flowing out of the back and onto the ground around the bed of the truck.

"What happened?" Hogan asked Olsen.

"I don't know. We heard machine gun fire, and then there was all this noise outside. I don't think it was any of our men."

"No, it couldn't be," Hogan agreed. If one of his men had done something rash and foolish, the goons would have rounded everyone up by now. "Better go check it out. Olsen, get the boys back up here and sit tight."

"Sure thing, Colonel."

Cautiously, Hogan stepped out into the compound. None of the guards seemed to notice him until he was right in their midst. "What's going on, Schultz?"

Schultz looked flustered. "Colonel Hogan! It was the Kommandant! He shot all of the water in the back of the truck!"

Hogan's eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead. Stunned, he shook his head and took a step back. "He… what? Klink?!"

"Jawohl. He just took Private Mueller's gun and rat-tat-tat-tat!" Schultz explained, mimicking the motion of a machine gun.

Hogan was stupefied. He didn't know what to say. "Wait. Klink?" Schultz nodded, equally dumbfounded. Hogan pursed his lips and grabbed his elbows, rocking on his heels. What was going on? Deciding he wasn't going to get much out of Schultz, he decided to go to the source.

"Be careful, Colonel Hogan," Schultz called after him.

Taking Schultz's advice seriously, Hogan carefully entered Klink's office. He found the Kommandant sitting in his chair, his feet up on his desk. He was leisurely reading a book. "Kommandant?" Hogan ventured.

"Oh, Hogan, what are you doing here?" Klink asked, setting his book down in his lap, his hand still holding his place.

"Schultz said you shot up the truck."

"Oh," Klink said dismissively as he sat up straight and waved at the air. "It was an accident, I assure you. I wanted to make sure Private Mueller's weapon was in working order. There must have been something wrong with the trigger because all of a sudden-" Klink just shrugged.

If at all possible, Hogan was even more stupefied. That was no accident. Klink had actually destroyed all that water from the fountain of youth. And the only explanation Hogan could come up with was that Klink had taken what he had said to heart. Deep down in that Kraut heart of his, Klink didn't want those maniacs in Berlin to get their hands on the key to immortality either.

"It's a good thing no one was hurt," Hogan finally said.

Klink nodded and picked up his book again. "Yes, indeed."

Hogan cocked his head to the side. "What are you reading there, Kommandant?"

Klink took a moment to look at the cover of his book. "Kleiner Mann- was nun? It's not 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, but that one is banned."

"It any good?"

"I will find out," Klink replied. "And if it is not, well, I suppose I will have to choose better the next time."

"Yeah…" Hogan studied Klink curiously, wondering just exactly who the man before him was. Maybe that jolt of youth had knocked some sense into him. Hopefully not too much- his stupidity was vital to the operation- but maybe enough for him to earn a little of Hogan's respect.

The phone rang, breaking Hogan away from his thoughts, and Klink away from his book. Klink answered it. "This is Kommandant Klink. Oh, Heinie, it's so good to hear- what's that? No! Really? When did this happen? Do you think the General. Yes. I will make sure everything is ready. Thank you. Yes. What was that? Oh yes, Heil Hitler."

Klink hung up the phone, a stunned look on his face.

"What's up, Colonel?"

"That was Colonel Gutterman from Stalag 9. Apparently Colonel Weber of Stalag 6 is being charged with fraud for embezzling funds!"

Hogan's eyes widened. Was it possible that, once more, his little fib had turned out to be true?

"And now General Burkhalter will be coming to every camp to make sure our papers are all in order. Oh, this is terrible. I'm going to have to- Hogan, what is it? What's the matter?"

"Nothing, Kommandant. Don't worry, I'll help you straighten your books."

"That's most kind of you, Hogan. But, there's something else. What is it?"

Hogan shook his head. "Nothing, nothing. It's just… I think from now on, I'm going to keep my big mouth shut!"

The End


End file.
